


Middle Ground

by paperviolins



Series: Nephalem and Archangels [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Attempted Abortion, Canon-typical Alcohol Consumption, Crowley is a Dumbass (Good Omens), Fluff, I swear it lightens up, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mpreg, Post-Armegedon, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Self-Harm, This one starts off really heavy, graphic birth, it will be very fluffy I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-08 03:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperviolins/pseuds/paperviolins
Summary: God placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, “we don’t have the time for me to explain fully, I am sorry. I am giving humanity a gift and I want you to deliver it, but it is not only a gift to humanity. It is also a gift to you. Think of it as a sort of apology for all I have burdened you with,” She smiled and squeezed his shoulder lightly before letting go, “stick strong to your beliefs, Crowley. Believe in yourself, and Aziraphale, and humanity. Protect what you think is right and stand firm in your ground. It will be a rough road, but I have Faith in you.”God looked back up at the stars and took a deep breath.“Beyond all else, keep creating beauty in this universe.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Nephalem and Archangels [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567078
Comments: 55
Kudos: 211





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Am I starting a new fic without finishing my others? Yes. Yes I am. Do I regret this decision? Only a little bit.

Crowley had most definitely, absolutely, no way in _Heaven_ intended for this to happen. He wasn't even sure how it _had_ happened. Biologically it didn't make sense, but that was a moot point (his form was only barely human). Furthermore, this sort of thing he was sure only happened with full consent and knowledge of both parties. He for one had not been knowledgeable or consented. 

(Welllllllllllll.)

"Shut up" Crowley snapped, out loud, to the voice in his head.

An elderly woman passing him at that moment startled and stumbled off the sidewalk. Crowley didn't take notice.

He shoved his hands angrily into his pockets and walked faster up the street. He was going to go home (not really home, home was with... Well...). Alright! His _flat_, he was going to go to his flat and drink until he passed out or killed it. Preferably both

Yeah, good plan. Like it would actually fucking work.

Crowley pushed the doubt away and rounded the corner to his street. He resolutely did not think about anything as he marched up to the door and stormed into his flat, slamming the door behind himself.

A snap of his fingers as he stormed into the sitting room and a bottle of hard, and resolutely shitty, whiskey was in his hand. Only then did Crowley pause.

(Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing.)

Crowley forcefully shook his head and ripped the cap off the bottle with a growl. No, this was definitely the worst thing possible. 

It had been a year since Armageddon had not happened. A whole year of blissful nothing from either Heaven nor Hell and finally confessed feelings between him and Aziraphale. Crowley wasn't about to let his treacherous body ruin that for him and his angel. No, this was ending tonight whatever it took.

And so Crowley, the demon, tucked into the first of several bottles of liquor that night.

***

Crowley was forcefully torn from sleep by the unpleasant and new experience of being reacquainted with the contents of his stomach, all over the floor. It took him some time to stop retching, and then coughing, before he could get a hand off the floor and snap the mess away. He swayed on his hands and knees and groaned. This was the worst hangover he had ever experienced by far. Served him right. 

Crowley made an undignified noise as he struggled to his feet and stumbled to the sofa. He deserved this. Every second of this suffering he had inflicted on himself. It would be simple enough to miracle away the hangover, but Crowley one hundred and ten percent deserved it for the danger he had put Aziraphale into.

Fuck, Aziraphale. He was probably going to come looking for Crowley soon. Crowley had disappeared without much of an explanation.

Crowley mustered his strength and reached out his awareness, and then turned it inward. He looked for the thing invading his body, for the foreign entity, the parasite, and was almost relived to not find it. But no, it was still there, resiliently holding onto existence, a tiny trembling beacon of life nestled safely in Crowley's body. I'm here, it said, I'm here and I'm alive and I'm not going anywhere.

"Fffuck," Crowley spat, "shit fuck fuck fuck FUCK. Fucking shit fuck!"

This was not acceptable. He HAD to get this damn thing out of himself before the powerful forces sniffed out the festering abomination. But how in the fuck was he going to get rid of the stubborn fucking thing without discorporating himself?

It obviously was impervious to alcohol and there weren't many other things Crowley could try that wouldn't risk the horrific thing that would be discorporation.

Crowley shuddered at the thought of what that would mean for him.

(Maybe keeping it wouldn't be so bad)

"NO, fuck OFF" Crowley shouted at the voice in his head, and immediately regretted it and his head throbbed and the room spun. 

He gagged and pressed his face into the sofa cushions, willing himself not to throw up again.

(Was it the booze? Had he actually consumed more booze than ever before? Or...)

Crowley grumbled into sofa. Fuck this. He needed to get rid of this hangover and figure his shit out.

He pushed himself up slowly and concentrated all his infernal power on removing the last traces of alcohol from his system and reversing any damage it had done. Crowley let out a breath when it was all said and done and opened his eyes. The room came into sharp focus. Brilliant. 

Crowley stood up and stared down at his stomach.

"Alright. Enough of this. Time for you to go.”

He raised his hand and snapped, trying a miracle. It didn't work. Crowley could feel that it didn't work. He snapped again, harder, putting as much infernal power into the attempted miracle as he could. His intestines shriveled painfully, but the thing didn't budge.

Crowley snarled, righted his intestines, and threw his face toward the ceiling.

"Is this some sick fucking joke to you?" He shouted, "am I now just your personal fucking punching bag? Is this my _punishment_ for hanging with the wrong crowd, as if falling wasn't enough? Answer me damnit!!"

There was no answer. Not one he wanted.

A minute passed. Something inside him shifted and Crowley wanted to curl into a ball and rot.

A slow seeping dread spread through his veins and he KNEW there was nothing he could do to get rid of this thing without discorporating himself, or worse. He could feel panic settling into every fiber of his being and he couldn't stop it.

Aziraphale could not know about this. It would destroy him. He would be disgusted by Crowley and the, the, THING he carried. This was a goddamn disaster.

"Please," Crowley begged the ceiling, "why me, why now? Please? I can't loose him. I can't lose Aziraphale. I. I-I can't bring a child into this world only to have it ripped from my hands and killed in front of me. Why are you doing this? Please take it away. Please, I'm begging you." Crowley fell to his knees and started sobbing. 

***

Crowley stayed locked in his flat for a week. He drank steadily and tried increasingly more and more dangerous means to attempt to get rid of his problem. Nothing was working. 

Aziraphale called several times and after the third day Crowley turned off his phone and disconnected the landline. Aziraphale also eventually came by and knocked on his door a few times. Crowley didn't answer and didn't give any indication that he was in there. Until this thing was gone, he could not face Aziraphale.

***

Aziraphale didn't understand why Crowley had disappeared or where he had gone. He wasn't answering his phone and didn't seem to be in his flat. As the week crawled on, Aziraphale grew more and more worried.

Had Hell decided to try and punish Crowley again? Had Heaven for that matter? Had he just grown inexplicably tired of Aziraphale?

No, that last thought was preposterous.

Aziraphale paced the bookshop trying to figure out what to do and what was happening. He could try calling again, but he knew Crowley wouldn't answer. Or maybe he could try going to Crowley's flat again?

That actually did sound like a good idea. Even if Crowley wasn't there, Aziraphale could see if there were any clues as to where he was inside. 

(That wasn't a very Good thought. But he wasn't exactly working for heaven anymore. And he'd done some B&E in the past anyway.)

Aziraphale made up his mind. He locked the bookshop and set off toward Crowley's flat. When he arrived, Aziraphale hesitated at the door. He just needed to knock, and if there wasn't an answer, miracle his way inside. 

(But what if Crowley was home and wanted to be left alone?)

Aziraphale shook his head and raised his hand to knock, then lowered it again.

A scream sounded from inside the flat. Aziraphale didn't think anymore, he just broke down the door and went in. 

"Crowley!?" Aziraphale shouted as he ran up the stairs.

He followed the screams to the kitchen of Crowley's flat and skidded to a stop in shock.

"Oh lord," Aziraphale raised a hand to cover his mouth in shock.

There was so much blood. So, so much blood. Crowley was screaming, obviously unaware of Aziraphale's presence, and carving into his stomach with a knife.

Aziraphale rushed forward and grabbed Crowley's hands, pulling them and the knife away.

"Crowley stop this!" He pleaded.

Crowley stopped screaming and whimpered, looking blearily up at Aziraphale.

"'m sorry z-zira, c-couldn’t get rid of i-it, g-got desperate" Crowley slurred, tears running down his face, and then slumped to the floor.

"Crowley! Crowley stay with me," Aziraphale pleaded, placing his hands on some of Crowley's wounds, "please, oh God please stay with me."


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley slowly drifted into consciousness, like rising through water from a great depth. As he neared the surface of consciousness, he became aware of a gentle, warm ray of sunlight caressing his face. He crested the surface and lazily opened his eyes.

Crowley looked blearily at the window, confused for a moment as to where he was. Then his plain curtains came into focus and he realized he was in his room. Crowley frowned, he didn't remember getting there.

Then it came back to him, through the haze of drunken memory. He'd tried to cut the Nephalem out of himself. Crowley sat up, pushed the blanket off himself and stared down at his bare stomach. The flesh was unmarred and pristine. Crowley's heart did a flip in his chest and he gently set a hand on his stomach. He jerked it away as if he had been burned. The Nephalem was still alive.

A wave of despondent rage crashed over Crowley. Tears immediately sprang forth from his eyes and he cried out in soul crushing agony.

"Why!?" He sobbed.

The door creaked. Crowley froze and then slowly looked up, tears still slipping down his face. Aziraphale was standing in the doorway, his expression soft and sad.

Shit.

Crowley clenched his jaw and looked away, willing himself to stop crying.

"Of course you're here," he spat, much more bitterly than intended.

There was a moment of silence. Crowley waited for the inevitable. He waited for Aziraphale's disgusted comment about wasting life, about not telling him about the thing. Maybe he'd even just be disgusted that Crowley hadn't managed to complete the task.

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale said softly and cautiously approached the bed, "why didn't you tell me you were suffering so, my dear?"

Crowley felt his face flush and he tried to hide more from Aziraphale.

"I," Aziraphale's voice cracked as he spoke again, "I didn't know you were in such a state to- to- well, you know, e-end it."

(Wait, what the fuck?)

Crowley's gaze snapped up to Aziraphale, in confusion.

"You think I was trying to kill myself, Aziraphale?" 

Crowley was shocked. How the Heaven did Aziraphale not realize what was happening here?

"W-well, you s-seemed well into it w-when I found you."

Crowley gaped.

"Aziraphale, you dense idiot," Aziraphale winced but Crowley continued, fueled by anger, "I'm not suicidal, I'm carrying fucking abomination!"

Aziraphale's eyes widened impossibly far and the weight of Crowley's confession settled on him.

(Oh no. Oh fuck. He shouldn't have said that.)

The blood drained from Crowley's face in horror. Now Aziraphale definitely knew.

"You're pregnant?" Aziraphale whispered. He sounded shocked and uncomfortably awestruck.

"Hngk," Crowley managed, curling in on himself.

"Oh. OH," Aziraphale said sadly, "you were-"

"Trying to get rid of it, yeah." Crowley finished.

Silence stretched between them. Crowley dared a peek at Aziraphale's face and found it horribly sad. He looked away and tried his damnedest to disappear into himself.

"But why?" Aziraphale sounded so sad. Crowley hated it.

"Like I said, it's an abomination. It shouldn't exist in the first fucking place."

"Dearest, it's just a child. What is so wrong with that?"

"Aren't you listening to me Aziraphale?" Crowley looked up, raising his voice, "I'm carrying a fucking Nephalem. You know, the abomination that our higher-ups warned us about? The one and only creature that should never exist and that both Heaven and Hell would be bent on snuffing out the second it takes its first breath!?"

Aziraphale blinked.

"B-but Crowley I- you've never been one to BELIEVE what Hell or Heaven told you. How do you know it isn't just an angel? Y-you were an angel once, w-what says you wouldn't-"

"Shut up!" Crowley cut him off, "shut the fuck up Aziraphale! Everything has ever told us the bastard spawn of an angel and demon is abomination incarnate. Besides, even if it isn't, the second it is born, both Heaven and Hell will come and rip it from my arms and slaughter it in front of my eyes regardless. And then probably kill you and make me watch over and over for all eternity!"

"Stop! Stop it Crowley! That's enough!" Aziraphale's eyes were misty.

Crowley looked away and angrily wiped at the tear that slid down his cheek.

"Can we discuss this in a reasonable manner?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley scoffed, "Reasonable? What is reasonable given the circumstances Aziraphale?"

"I just think you are acting rashly, Crowley, and I-"

"Get out." Crowley snarled. He knew what Aziraphale was going to do next. He was going to try to convince Crowley to KEEP the thing.

Aziraphale looked shocked and opened his mouth to speak.

"Get. Out."

Aziraphale swallowed, hard, but didn't move. Crowley almost told him a third time to leave, but his heart ached in more way than one.

The silence that stretched between them was long and uncomfortable. Crowley refused to look at Aziraphale or speak. He knew that if he did either, he would either drive the angel away forever or breakdown crying.

Aziraphale sighed sadly.

"Come home, please?"

Aziraphale's tone tore at Crowley's heart and made him feel sick. Aziraphale didn't want to leave Crowley alone. He didn't want Crowley to hurt himself again, or worse.

Crowley gritted his teeth. He knew there was no way out of this beyond fucking off completely, and he couldn't do that to Aziraphale.

"Fine," he muttered.

Crowley could practically feel the relief wash off of Aziraphale (he actually could). The angel stood up from the bed.

"Do you- can you-" Aziraphale stuttered, Crowley risked a glance at him and regretted it for the look of concern on his face, "Are you able to get up on your own?"

Crowley nodded, "yeah, think so."

"Alright. I'll leave you to dress. I'll just be in the living room if you need me."

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment then shuffled out of the room and closed the door quietly behind himself.

The moment the door closed, Crowley sighed heavily and fell back on his bed. He stared at the ceiling and tried to keep from thinking about anything. He was almost startled when he felt his own hand ghost over his lower stomach in an almost loving gesture. Crowley snatched his hand away and sat up.

"Enough of that," he grumbled to himself and glared at his stomach, “this isn’t fucking over, you hear me?”

He got out of bed, swaying slightly, and shuffled over to his dresser. Crowley was in no condition to miracle himself dressed and so went about it the old-fashioned way. Then he stood and glared at his bedroom door until he conceded that he was better off just leaving already than waiting for the door to melt.

Crowley found Aziraphale perched uncomfortably on the very edge of the sofa. Aziraphale stood up the moment Crowley entered the room.

"Ready?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. Aziraphale offered him a small smile and led the way out of Crowley’s flat.

Aziraphale wouldn’t let Crowley drive and so they caught a cab back to the bookshop. The ride there was uncharacteristically quiet for the two of them. Once they got to the bookshop, Crowley immediately made a beeline for the bedroom that Aziraphale had made for them above the shop and curled up under the covers.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me, my dear,” Aziraphale called through the door.

Crowley ignored him and curled up into a tighter ball. Sleep blessedly claimed him quickly.

***

_Crowley was standing on the Wall around the Garden, staring out at Her creation. He could see more than just the Garden and the desert beyond. He could see the whole of the world and all the beauty She had placed on this small world. Crowley turned his eyes skyward and gazed out into the stars. He had helped create those oh so long ago, back when he was still and angel and his name was not Crowley._

_Crowley couldn’t remember his angelic name; it had been stripped from him in the fall and while he wasn’t made to forget it the inability to use it had made the name slip from his head. He did remember the name of every single start in the cosmos though. His eyes found Alpha Centauri and a tendril of memory trickled the back of his mind. He had created that system special, but he couldn’t remember why. Much of his memory of his time as an angel was gone or heavily corrupted. Crowley could only clearly remember the deeds that led to his fall._

_There was a flutter of wings and a presence appeared beside Crowley. He figured it was Aziraphale and didn’t turn, just basking in his presence._

_“It is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” a powerful feminine voice spoke, sending a chill down Crowley’s spine._

_He turned and there She was. God. He didn’t know if he should kneel or cower._

_God smiled softly, “there is no need for kneeling or cowering, Crowley. You know, I have always loved the work you did in the stars. You had such a unique touch and such an eye for beauty. I am so glad that humanity has taken such an admiration for them. You should be proud.”_

_Crowley chuckled, “thought pride was a sin, and here you are condoning it, you lordliness?”_

_“There is no need for that title, Crowley,” God sighed, “I have changed much since the beginning. My ideals and my views have shifted over time. Humanity has taught me far more than I taught them. May I confide something in you, Crowley?”_

_Crowley blinked in surprise and nodded, then realized God wasn’t looking at him, “sure, why not?”_

_God sighed, “I have so many regrets, Crowley. I regret allowing humanity so much freedom, but I also know it has been for the best. I regret standing back from communicating and guiding my heavenly host. I regret the many times I have lashed out in anger at humanity and slaughtered them. I regret casting Adam and Eve out of the Garden,” she gestured behind her and Crowley could almost swear he saw tears in her eyes, “and above all, I regret casting out so many angels in the Fall. I allowed anger to guide so many of my decisions in the past and expected my creations to not fall into the same short comings of personality that I possess. That’s why I ordained sins in the first place you know? They were originally just what I found awful and unacceptable in myself. But then again, I should have expected those traits to carry onto my creations. I did make angels and humans in my image after all. It only makes sense that they would have the same short comings as I.”_

_Crowley swallowed past a lump that had developed in his throat, “w-why are you telling me all of this?”_

_God smiled softly, “someone needed to know all of this. I figured you, of all beings, were a very good candidate.”_

_The two were silent for a while, staring up at the stars. A light wind swept through their feathers and hair, bringing with it scents from across the world._

_“This is more than just a dream isn’t it?” Crowley looked at God._

_She nodded, “yes, it is more than a dream, Crowley.”_

_“I-I don’t understand,” Crowley averted his eyes, “why are you talking to me of all beings? I’m just a lowly demon, and not even a very high ranking one at that.”_

_“Oh, come now Crowley, you are much more than ‘just a lowly demon’. You have defied both Hell and Heaven and carved out a new place for yourself somewhere between the two. Besides, you were never a very demonic demon to start with. That’s what I like about you, you are deep down still very good.”_

_Crowley scoffed._

_“I’m being serious,” God turned to face him fully, “I never expected there to be beings of such pure neutrality! Not even the humans. But here we are, a whole species that represents the space between true good and evil and two ethereal beings on their side. Not to mention how the Antichrist turned out. It is more wonderous than I could ever have imagined.”_

_Crowley didn’t understand where She was going with this and it was starting to make him a bit uncomfortable._

_“I guess what I’m trying to say, and please bear with me Crowley for I’m not good at being concise and clear, is that I think it’s time for humanity to have more powerful beings on their side. It has been made very clear to me that Heaven and Hell do not really care for humanity and only see them as objects to play with, which was not my Plan at all. Humanity no longer have defenders against forces that would crush them in an instant if they thought I wished it. The failed Armageddon proved as much to me.”_

_“What are you saying here? Are you talking about more angels and demons defecting like Aziraphale and I? I don’t understand.”_

_God placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, “we don’t have the time for me to explain fully, I am sorry. I am giving humanity a gift and I want you to deliver it, but it is not only a gift to humanity. It is also a gift to you. Think of it as a sort of apology for all I have burdened you with,” She smiled and squeezed his shoulder lightly before letting go, “stick strong to your beliefs, Crowley. Believe in yourself, and Aziraphale, and humanity. Protect what you think is right and stand firm in your ground. It will be a rough road, but I have Faith in you.”_

_God looked back up at the stars and took a deep breath._

_“Beyond all else, keep creating beauty in this universe.”_

_With a sound like a gentle sigh, God was gone. Crowley looked out at the horizon. A storm was gathering there, but the wind was blowing strongly toward the storm as if trying to hold it back._

Crowley woke with a gasp. He sat up and looked around the room. His heart was pounding in his chest and his head swam with so many questions. He looked up at the ceiling.

“What the fuck was that? What was that supposed to mean?”

There was no answer. Crowley sighed and looked back down. His eyes settled on his stomach and he remembered his current plight.

(Maybe She had been talking about this?)

“No,” Crowley growled and got out of bed. He wasn’t going to entertain that thought.

Crowley stalked out of the bedroom and into the little kitchenette in the flat. He eyed the bottles of wine and then decided that Aziraphale probably wouldn’t be happy if he got drunk. Crowley reached for the coffee maker and turned it on. He lounged against the counter as the machine worked.

That dream was bothering him. He still couldn’t quite believe that the big G had talked to him. Then again, who was he to dictate who She should and shouldn’t talk to. He also felt like he shouldn’t deny that encounter. It felt like it had been real, and something deep down told him it had really happened.

The coffee maker made a horrible gurgling noise as it finished. Crowley turned back to the machine and busied himself with making a cup of coffee. He focused fully on the simple task as a way to have a break from his tumultuous thoughts. He was so focused on making his cup of coffee that he didn’t hear Aziraphale come into the room.

“Good morning, dear,” Aziraphale said, half startling Crowley.

“Mornin’, Angel. Want some coffee?”

“No, thank you, dear. I just came up to check on you,” Aziraphale smiled sweetly at him and reached for his mug, “though while I’m in here I may as well have some tea.”

Crowley sipped his coffee and casually watched as Aziraphale busied himself with his cup of tea. Aziraphale was holding himself weirdly distant from Crowley, as if he was in the room with a wild animal. Crowley realized that was his fault. Aziraphale probably just didn’t want to startle Crowley into leaving again. The poor angel was probably terrified that Crowley was going to run off the second he could and do something stupid.

Crowley sighed and stared into his coffee. He was causing his angel so much pain when he had been trying to avoid that in the first place.

“Penny for your thoughts, dear?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh, just had a weird dream ‘s all,” Crowley mumbled into his mug and took a drink.

“Care to talk about it?”

Crowley shook his head, but spoke anyway, “just dreamed about Eden and God, flitting around being all ‘Godly’ ‘n bossing folks around. You know, the usual.”

Aziraphale gave him a Look but didn’t press farther. The two stood in silence for a while drinking their beverages.

Crowley finished his coffee and miracled the mug clean. He then moved to leave the room.

“Wait,” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm. There was a tone of concern and panic in his voice, “where are you going?”

Crowley looked at Aziraphale and gave him a soft smile, “just back to the bedroom, Angel. I’m not going to run off.”

Aziraphale looked so damn sad and it broke Crowley’s heart. Aziraphale nodded and reluctantly let go of Crowley’s arm.

Crowley cursed himself internally then stepped toward Aziraphale. He took Aziraphale’s mug out of his hand and set it on the counter and then gently held the angel’s face in his hands. Aziraphale closed his eyes and gently took hold of one of Crowley’s wrists. He didn’t try to pull Crowley’s hand away, just held his wrist gently.

“Angel,” Crowley said softly, Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked at Crowley, “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Aziraphale shook his head and sniffed. Crowley could see tears in his eyes.

“It’s okay, my dear. I know you didn’t mean any harm,” Aziraphale gently pulled Crowley’s hands away from his face, “I need to get back to the shop. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Crowley watched as Aziraphale quickly left the room. Crowley sighed and made his way back to the bedroom. He crawled back into bed and stared blankly at the wall.

Crowley stayed in bed for most of the day. He replayed his conversation with God over and over and thought about what She may have meant. Maybe She was going to send a new race of beings down to Earth and Crowley would be responsible to lead them? But how would that be a gift on him? He didn’t want to be responsible for a bunch of powerful beings that were meant to protect humanity. He had never liked being in charge of anyone.

(She meant the child.)

“Shut up,” Crowley muttered at the voice in his head, it kept chiming in with similar suggestions, “and don’t call it a fucking ‘child’, it’s a parasite, nothing more.”

(You know I’m right…)

Crowley growled and got out of bed. He stalked into the main room of his and Aziraphale’s flat and went over to the few plants he had brought there from his own flat. Crowley picked up a spray bottle and took his frustrations out on the pristine plants.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this angst show is almost over!! Sorry for inflicting this upon y'all....

This cycle continued for the next few days. Crowley would hide in bed until he couldn’t handle arguing with the voice in his head any longer, then he’d get up and either make himself a hot drink or verbally assault his plants. He and Aziraphale had adopted a sort of careful and uncomfortable dance around each other. 

Crowley could tell Aziraphale was trying his best to leave Crowley alone about the topic of the Nephalem, but he did slip up a few times. On those occasions, Crowley would shut down and usually leave the room or yell at Aziraphale.

Crowley was stuck in a repeating cycle of wanting to do anything possible to get rid of the Nephalem and feeling like he couldn’t for Aziraphale’s sake. He was also constantly haunted by his conversation with God. The little voice in his head was convinced that She had been referencing the Nephalem, but Crowley would not allow himself to believe it.

It was the late morning of the seventh day since Crowley came home with Aziraphale. Crowley was lounging on the sofa that he and Aziraphale had compromised on, glaring at his plants. Aziraphale wandered into the room, radiating an aura of nervous excitement. Crowley raised and eyebrow in his direction.

“Crowley, I have to go out for a bit. I’ve just found a book I’ve been looking for for nearly a century now online and I can’t pass up the opportunity to get it. I must go all the way out to Manchester though and I’ve got to hurry. I was only able to convince the seller to hold it for a few hours for me and only if a better offer didn’t come in.”

Crowley held up a hand to stop Aziraphale from blabbering further, “I get it, Angel. Go get your book. I’ll be fine on my own here.”

Aziraphale looked hesitant. Crowley sighed.

“I promise I won’t do anything to hurt myself while you’re gone.”

“Alright,” Aziraphale said, not sounding totally convinced. He walked over to the sofa and bent down to give Crowley a quick peck on the lips, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Mmhhm,” Crowley murmured.

Aziraphale gave Crowley one last smile and then quickly left the room. Crowley listened to the sounds of Aziraphale going down the stairs and moving through the bookshop. He heard the door open, then close, and finally lock. Crowley waited exactly three minutes and then rolled off the sofa.

He made his way down into the closed bookshop. Crowley went to the section of books that Aziraphale kept specifically in the back of the shop. His eyes scanned the shelves until he found what he was looking for, a book on Biblical creatures. It was bound to contain information on Nephalem and likely at least a mention of how to get rid of them. He reached for the book.

The moment his fingertips brushed the spine of the book, a fiery pain shot up Crowley’s arm. He gasped in pain and instinctively jerked his arm away. He held his hand as the pain ebbed and looked at his fingers. They didn’t look damaged. Crowley looked at the book with a glare. 

God’s words echoed through his mind as he looked upon the book, “_I think it’s time for humanity to have more powerful beings on their side._”

Crowley blinked a couple of times and swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat.

(She means the fucking Nephalem, you dense idiot.)

“Ngk,” Crowley took a step back and bumped up against a bookshelf.

He stared at the book for a few moments longer, grappling with his conflicting thoughts. This time it was much harder to deny what the voice in his head was saying. Eventually, Crowley tore his eyes away from the book and made his way back through the shop and upstairs. He collapsed back down onto the sofa and sat there staring into space for quite some time.

A gentle brush of fingers over his forehead made Crowley aware that he had fallen asleep. He blinked his eyes open and was graced Aziraphale’s smiling face.

“Hello, dear. Did you have a nice nap?”

“Mmm, guess so. Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Crowley yawned and stretched, “how was book shopping?”

“Fantastic! Though I did have to use some less than favorable techniques to get the book for a reasonable price.”

Crowley sat up on the sofa and caught sight of two books sitting on the coffee table. One was a very old book, and the other a pale pink volume tucked under the other. Crowley could see what looked like a crude depiction of a rattle on the exposed portion of the second book’s cover. His stomach twisted.

“Angel, what’s that other book?”

Aziraphale looked like he caught red handed. His face first drained of all color and then flushed to almost the color of Crowley’s hair. It was quite the spectacle to see.

“I uh, w-well. It. It’s, uhm, it’s-”

“Let me guess, a book about babies, or pregnancy, or something along those lines?”

Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before shamefully nodding.

“Yes, it is a book about pregnancy and the first few months of infancy.”

Crowley gave himself a moment to let that all sink in. Aziraphale looked like he was expecting Crowley to snap at him. Crowley hated himself for making his Angel feel that way. He didn’t know how to feel about the book. On the one hand, he was still very much against the idea of keeping the Nephalem, and on the other, it was getting harder and harder to ignore that insistent little voice in his head.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale blurted, reaching for the book, “I-I shouldn’t have gotten it. I wasn’t thinking clearly, it was rude to do that. I’ll just return it.”

Crowley caught Aziraphale’s wrist as the angel picked up the book.

“Aziraphale, Angel, stop. Just, sit down. Please?”

Aziraphale stopped talking and sat lightly on the sofa next to Crowley. Aziraphale was still holding the book, rather tightly by the looks of it. Crowley gently took it out of his hands and stared at the cover. For a moment, the anti-Nephalem side of him won and he tossed the book onto the coffee table a little aggressively. He sat back on the couch and crossed his arms.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said hesitantly, “can we please at least talk about this?”

“Talk about what, Aziraphale?” Crowley was now just trying to be a shit.

“The ba- the Nephalem, Crowley.”

“What is there to talk about exactly, Angel?” Crowley snapped.

Aziraphale pursed his lips and straightened his posture. Crowley could almost see the angel’s feathers ruffling.

“Well, for starters, the fact that you seem, or at least seemed, hell bent on getting rid of it with absolutely no regard for your own health and safety,” Aziraphale seemed angry now, his voice just ever so slightly raised, “or that you won’t even consider the possibility of keeping it.”

“Aziraphale, it’s too fucking dangerous to keep it. The threat of Heaven and Hell aside, just think of the kind of power this thing is going to have! And that’s if it even comes out functional. You don’t know what mixing angel and demon will create. It could just be a writhing mass of death when it pops out!”

“Crowley be reasonable. What if it just ends up being human?”

“Oh, yeah, great idea Aziraphale. Let us, two eternal beings, raise a mortal _human_.”  
Aziraphale frowned, “I don’t see what’s wrong with that. It’s not like we haven’t done that before.”

“That was different! It wasn’t _our_ kid! And _he's_ not dead yet.”

“Alright, so let’s say for the sake of argument it ends up immortal like us, Crowley. What would be so bad about raising a child together? And even if it does have great powers, what is there to say it would be a danger?”

“Fine,” Crowley spat, “let’s say it does come out immortal and not physically and abomination. You know there will be absolutely no stopping our old bosses from hunting us down and killing it and then us. Bet they’d love the opportunity to tear us to shreds!”

“Well, then we’d deal with them!”

Crowley scoffed, “sure, fight off the Heavenly Host and the Hordes of Hell. Just the two of us and a newborn.”

“Crowley, will you stop that!?”

“Stop what? Being a realist?”

“No, stop being a pessimist! We have dealt with Heaven and Hell before, we could do it again. Besides, who says they would even bother us? They’ve left us alone so far, what’s to say that will change?”

“I’m fucking scared okay!?” Crowley grabbed fistfuls of his own hair, his resolve quickly crumbling, “I don’t want- I _can't_ have a kid only for them to be ripped away from me! Or what if I fuck the kid up or it comes out all deformed because I’m a demon? A-and, I can’t fucking loose you Aziraphale. Not again,” a tear slipped down Crowley’s cheek and he pushed away memories of fire and the smell of burning paper.

Aziraphale was silent for a while. Crowley couldn’t stop crying now that he’d started. He didn’t even know where he really stood on this matter anymore.

“I think,” Aziraphale began gently, “that we both should think about this a little more and talk again, later, when we both have had some time to calm down. I think your fears are reasonable, my dear, but they shouldn’t be the driving factor in your decision on this matter.”

Crowley thought about Aziraphale’s suggestion for a moment.

“Yeah, alright. Fine. I’ll think about it, and we’ll talk later,” Crowley got up from the sofa, “I’m going to bed. Ciao.”

Crowley walked off before Aziraphale could protest. He went straight to the bedroom and sat down on the bed. The tears would not stop and so Crowley just let himself cry for a good bit. Then he sat and thought, and thought, and kept thinking. The sun had set and come back up by the time Crowley had stopped thinking.

The sun had set some hours ago and Crowley had come to a stalemate with himself. He got up from the bed, stalked over to the window, and looked up at the sky. London was never very good for star gazing, but that didn’t matter to Crowley. He could always find the stars he was looking for, even if no human would be able to see them. Looking up at them always calmed him.

As always, his eyes drifted immediately to Alpha Centauri. He wondered for the millionth time what his inspiration for that little binary system had been. Crowley knew there had been one, back in Heaven, but the details were lost on him. He always got a vague sense of the feeling of down on his fingers and the smell of vanilla when he tried to remember. He figured he had made the system in honor of some angel he had known. Some long-lost relationship that he would never truly remember. The other party likely didn’t remember him and/or had fallen as well. Crowley shook the thought away and stared at the two suns in their eternal dance around each other for a little while longer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time! Just wanted to give y'all something before I have classes today, in case I don't get around to writing more.

Aziraphale sat at his desk in the bookshop reading and rereading the same page. He had in fact been rereading that same page in that same book for about four hours now. He wasn’t even aware of the amount of time or the fact that he was rereading the page. He was too occupied in listening for the sound of Crowley waking up and thinking about Crowley’s confession from the day before.

He understood Crowley’s fears, Aziraphale shared several of them. But he was also prepared to take the risk. Aziraphale had always like the idea of having children, especially after having a hand in Warlock’s raising. Having a child with Crowley would be, well, Heaven on Earth.

Aziraphale had also been thinking about the Heaven and Hell issue. He had a strong feeling that the two sides would just leave them alone. Aziraphale had also done some intensive research into methods of hiding things from higher powers. He was also more than prepared to physically fight the forces of Heaven and Hell if he had to. Fear had controlled too much of Aziraphale’s life and he was not going to allow it to continue to run his life.

The creak of a floorboard and a door hinge drew Aziraphale back to reality. He closed the book, not bothering to mark the page, and got up from his desk. Then he headed for the stairs up to the flat.

Crowley was in the kitchenette standing with a white-knuckle grip on the counter. He turned around the moment Aziraphale walked into the room.

“Aziraphale I-”

“Crowley are-”

They both stopped talking after having both tried speaking at the same time. There was an awkward moment of silent stalemate.

Aziraphale took his chance, “are you ready to talk, Crowley?”

“Ngk, I-uhh-w-well. Uh, yeah. Yes, I guess so.”

Aziraphale smiled softly, “let’s sit down and talk then.”

Crowley nodded and followed Aziraphale to the dining table. They sat down opposite of each other.

Crowley spoke first, “Angel, I want to know your thoughts about all this,” he gestured in the vague direction of his stomach, “I’ve shared what I think, in an unfair amount. I need to know what you think.”

Aziraphale wasn’t expecting that at all.

“Well, I have thought about it, and I do share many of your fears and concerns. That being said,” Aziraphale reached across the table and gently took Crowley’s hand in his own, “I would greatly like it if you kept the- the baby.”

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand and nodded.

“I have also been thinking about the Heaven and Hell issue,” Aziraphale continued, “and I have some ideas of things we can do to ward them off.”

Crowley made a noncommittal sound. Aziraphale could tell he wanted to say something and so waited.

“I-I think She spoke to me in a dream.”

Aziraphale sat straighter, “She?”

“Y’know, the Almighty?”

“Ah, yes. Well, what did She say?”

“She told me she was giving humanity, and me, a gift. She also told me that She felt humanity needed ‘powerful beings’,” Crowley did one-handed air quotes around ‘powerful beings’, “on their side. I’ve been doing some thinking about it and I think She may have been talking about t-the,” Crowley visibly struggled with the word, “baby.”

“Oh, well then. If the Almighty did indeed tell you things, then I think it would be unwise to go against Her wishes.”

Crowley sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.

“I know, Angel. I’m just, just _so_ scared.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand and waited for the demon to look at him, “if She meant for this to happen, if this is part of Her ineffable plan, then things will turn out just fine.”

“Hngk,” Crowley looked away.

“I-I also think,” Aziraphale’s voice cracked with emotion and Crowley looked back up at the angel, “that the only way to get rid of the baby, so to speak, would result in your discorporation or death a-and I would much rather that d-didn’t happen, my dear.”

“Oh, Angel,” Crowley said softly.

“I-I know ultimately this is entirely your choice Crowley, but I am just a little selfish, I admit, and I don’t want to lose you, either.”

Crowley swallowed and nodded. They both collected themselves for a moment. Crowley sat back in his chair.

“Well, I’m still bloody terrified, but I-I guess it’s decided then,” Crowley said and Aziraphale looked up at him. The two met eyes, clear blue to amber, “we are keeping it.”

Aziraphale smiled and reached for Crowley’s other hand.

“Thank you, Crowley.”

“Eh, the alternative is worse, I’ve decided.”

Aziraphale chuckled and Crowley couldn’t help the small smile that crept on to his face.

“Let’s go celebrate,” Crowley suggested, “that’s what people do right? When they are- are… Expecting.” 

“The Ritz?” Aziraphale asked, trying to not grin too widely.

Crowley nodded, “the Ritz.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some of that fluff I promised!! Comments and kudos are much appreciated! Now I go try to sleep off my EDS pain.

Aziraphale woke to an empty bed. It wasn’t very often that Aziraphale slept, but when he did, he slept very soundly, so he wasn’t surprised that Crowley leaving the bed had not awoken him. It was still night, judging by the color of the light that was managing to filter through the curtains. No point in leaving bed quite yet then. Aziraphale snuggled farther into the blankets and closed his eyes.

Wait. Crowley was gone.

Aziraphale’s eyes shot open and he sat up. He scanned the dark room but did not see Crowley.

“Crowley?”

There was no response. Panic rose like bile in Aziraphale’s throat. He stumbled out of bed. Realizing he was very much devoid of clothing, Aziraphale quickly miracled himself a bathrobe which he tightly affixed around his waist. He then left the room.

Quickly checking each room of the small flat, Aziraphale found no sign of Crowley. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to resist the pull of full-blown panic. He could feel his nose stinging and his eyes wet with unshed tears.

“Crowley!?” Aziraphale called out desperately, standing in the living room.

He stood, and listened, and hoped beyond hope that Crowley would respond or appear from some corner that Aziraphale had neglected to check. None of those things happened.

Aziraphale was about to give into panic when he heard a sound from downstairs. His breath caught in his throat and Aziraphale took a moment to collect himself. Crowley had probably just gone down to the bookshop to avoid waking Aziraphale.

Once he felt calmer and a bit less manic, Aziraphale quietly made his way down into the bookshop. He wandered through the back shelves toward the front, looking thoroughly for Crowley. As he neared the front of the shop, Aziraphale became aware of what sounded like crying. He frowned and walked a little bit faster.

Coming through his office into the main part of the library, Aziraphale finally spotted Crowley and relief washed over him. Crowley was sitting with his legs drawn up to his chest in the middle of the rug in the front of the shop. Aziraphale realized that the crying was coming from Crowley. He immediately went over to Crowley and knelt in front of him.

“My dear, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked softly, placing a gentle hand on Crowley’s bare shoulder.

Crowley flinched, more at the touch than Aziraphale speaking. He curled in tighter on himself, as if afraid of Aziraphale, and sobbed louder.

A draft from somewhere in the poorly insulated bookshop drew a shiver out of Aziraphale. He pulled his robe closer to his body and noticed that Crowley had not dressed himself before coming down there. With a snap of his fingers, Aziraphale miracled a blanket. He carefully placed it around Crowley’s shoulders and sat next to him, hip to hip.

It took a while, but Crowley eventually calmed down a bit, his sobs not quite so forceful, but also not completely gone. Aziraphale stayed right next to him, not entirely sure what to do given he didn’t know what was upsetting Crowley but determined to be there for him.

Once he figured Crowley would be able to answer him, Aziraphale spoke, “Crowley, my love, what’s wrong?”

Crowley made a quiet sound and leaned against Aziraphale. Aziraphale waited for an answer.

Crowley took a shuddering breath and finally spoke, “had a bad dream.”

“What was it about, dear, if it’s not too painful to talk about.”

“Ngk,” Crowley shifted so he could press his face into Aziraphale’s arm and cling to it. “About th-the-the f-fire,” he stuttered, “’bout y-you dying.”

“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale gently extracted his arm from Crowley’s grip, eliciting a whimper from the demon, and pulled Crowley into his embrace.

Crowley began crying harder again and clung to Aziraphale’s robe. Aziraphale held him and gently rubbed his back.

“I am so sorry, my dear,” Aziraphale murmured against Crowley’s hair. “I will never leave you like that again; I swear.”

Crowley cried for a bit more. Eventually, his sobs deflated into a sort of pitiful hitch of his breath every now and again. Aziraphale continued to hold him and rub his back.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Aziraphale said softly but didn’t make a move to stand or let go of Crowley.

Crowley nodded against Aziraphale’s chest. “O-okay.”

Aziraphale waited for Crowley to let go of his robe. Once he did, Aziraphale stood up and offered Crowley a hand. Crowley took it and let Aziraphale help him stand, clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders.

The two made their way slowly back through the bookshop and up the stairs. They went back to their bedroom. Crowley crawled into the bed and under the blankets. Aziraphale joined him and pressed himself against Crowley’s back placing a hand over Crowley’s heart. Crowley laced his fingers through Aziraphale’s over his heart and held tight.

They stayed like that for some time, until Crowley’s grip loosened, and his breathing slowed with sleep. Aziraphale kept holding him but had no intention of sleeping anymore himself. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Crowley’s head.

“My you sleep peacefully, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered, casting a small miracle that he hoped would dispel any more nightmares for the duration of Crowley’s sleep.

***

Crowley slept peacefully for the rest of the night, and Aziraphale was grateful for that. Aziraphale listened to Crowley’s breathing through the rest of the night and watched as the light from outside blued and then warmed with dawn and sunrise. 

Aziraphale basked in the feeling of being this close to Crowley. The past two weeks had been rough and lonely. First the complete absence of Crowley the first week and then the awful dancing around each other that had occupied the second. Aziraphale wondered how he had managed for nearly 6000 years without expressing his feelings to Crowley. For that matter, how had Crowley managed? The demon had spent nearly every moment he could hanging off Aziraphale since they had confessed their feelings for each other. Well, except for the last two weeks.

The confession had happened about a month after the Armageddon-that-wasn’t. Crowley had shown up at the bookshop late and insisted they go out drinking. Aziraphale let Crowley drag him across most of London pub hopping. Both had gotten completely sloshed and had to lean on each other as they stumbled back to the bookshop once the last bar had closed and kicked them out. Of course, the bars closing did not stop them from drinking more once they got to the bookshop. They had a lovely conversation about the morals of otters that ended in a comfortable silence. 

Aziraphale had been the first to confess and completely on accident to boot. “Would you like some more wine, my love?” he has slurred at Crowley.

Aziraphale would never forget the look on Crowley’s face. His eyes had gone wide and his face had nearly turned the same color as his hair. Crowley had stuttered out a shocked “what?” causing Aziraphale to realize what he had said. Aziraphale restated his question, emphasizing the “my love” bit.

At that point Crowley had insisted they sober up, much to Aziraphale’s disappointment. Once they had, Crowley interrogated Aziraphale on his feelings. Aziraphale, at that point had seen no sense in lying and confessed his long-held love and adoration for Crowley. Crowley had been speechless for the longest time after that, but then he too confessed his love for Aziraphale.

Aziraphale smiled at the memory. He had spent so long repressing and hiding his feelings for Crowley, and now it was so very liberating for him to have the freedom to express them as he pleased.

Crowley shifted in Aziraphale’s arms and rolled over to snuggle into Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale could tell Crowley was awake, though he seemed to only be reluctantly so. Aziraphale slid a hand into Crowley’s hair and gently ran his fingers through it. Crowley hummed softly.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Mmmm,” Crowley vocalized. 

He moved slightly away from Aziraphale and stretched. Then he opened his golden eyes and looked at his Angel.

“Mornin’ Angel,” Crowley’s voice was a little raspy from sleep and probably from crying the night before. He leaned forward and kissed Aziraphale gently.

“Are you feeling better, my dear?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley sighed and just looked at Aziraphale for a while. “Yes, I am. Thank you. For last night I mean. Comforting me. I needed it.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “Of course. What do you say to having a little lie in and then getting breakfast at that little café down the street?”

“Mmmn, sounds lovely, Angel.” Crowley cuddled back up to Aziraphale, twinging his long limbs around the angel.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff!! I was going to make this chapter longer, but I felt guilty about making y'all wait longer. Enjoy! Comments and kudos are appreciated!

“So, how did this even happen?” Aziraphale asked innocently at breakfast one morning.

“Mmmn?” Crowley said, not really paying attention as he shoveled food into his mouth.

“The baby, dear.”

“Oh, I, uh, w-well, uhm,” Crowley fumbled with his fork and dropped it on his plate. “I-I don’t really know. I didn’t exactly, uh, _plan_ it to happen, so to speak.”

“Hmm, that’s odd. I would have thought you would have needed to consciously change your anatomy to, well, facilitate,” Aziraphale wiped his mouth daintily.

Crowley shrugged. “Me too. Guess not,” he picked up his fork and continued eating. Eating, that was a new thing he had to do.

Aziraphale finished his food and stood up. “Well, I guess we will just need to be more careful in the future,” he grabbed his plate and walked over to the sink.

Crowley choked on his food and started coughing. Aziraphale seemed to think he was fine and just left the room.

“Angel!” Crowley shouted when he had gotten a little control over his respiratory system.

“I’m heading down to the shop, dear. There’s work to do!”

Crowley stared down at his plate. His face felt hot. He buried his face in his hands.

“What the Hell, Aziraphale,” he muttered.

(He thinks this could happen again.)

“Oh, it most certainly will not.” Crowley growled and miracled his plate away. “Cheeky bastard.”

***

“Are those, sweatpants?” 

Crowley looked over the top of his phone at Aziraphale who was standing in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow. “Yes? Is that a crime?”

“Well, no. I just haven’t seen you in such loose trousers for several centuries.”

“Hmm,” Crowley said testily and looked back at his phone.  
Crowley could feel Aziraphale staring at him. The angel was doing that thing he did when he was thinking too deeply where he would stand inhumanly still. It made Crowley uncomfortable.

“You can’t fit into your normal trousers, can you.” Aziraphale said and Crowley could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Ngk. Yes, okay, I can’t fit into my fucking jeans anymore! Are you happy?” Crowley dropped his phone on his chest and crossed his arms.

Crowley was _not_ happy about the situation. He rather liked his normal trousers, but he just couldn’t get them buttoned anymore. And even when he had tried to miracle them a bit bigger in the waist, they had looked disgustingly unflattering. So, he had settled for a pair of comfortable sweats.

Aziraphale chuckled and walked over. He settled himself on the ground beside the sofa where Crowley was sprawled out.

“I’m sorry if I upset you dear. I just find it endearing.”

“What. You find it endearing that I’m getting fat?”

“You are not ‘getting fat’, Crowley. The baby is just growing.”

“Hmmph,” Crowley said.

Crowley did not stop Aziraphale when he lifted the demon’s shirt and placed a gently kiss on the small mound his stomach was developing.

“Ngk,” said Crowley and he turned his head away in embarrassment.

“I think the sweatpants look good on you, my dear,” Aziraphale said as he gently rubbed Crowley’s belly.

“Shaddup,” Crowley grumbled.

***

“Eugh, _that_ is an awful feeling,” Crowley said looking down at his stomach in offence.

Aziraphale looked up from his book, “excuse me?”

“It’s _moving_. Feels like someone let a load of maggots loose in my stomach.”

Aziraphale made a face of discomfort. “Thank you for the, vivid description, Crowley.”

Crowley prodded his stomach. “Cut it out, will ya? I don’t like that.”

“The baby can’t hear you, my dear.” Aziraphale turned a page in his book.

Crowley narrowed his eyes at the angel.

“How do you know that?” Crowley taunted.

“Because I read it. The baby shouldn’t be able to hear anything for a few more weeks at least.”

“Oh sure, because we are confident it is obeying human timelines.”

“It seems to be doing so, so far.”

“Mmn.”

Aziraphale marked the page he was on, put the book down, and stood up.

“I’m going to go make some tea, would you like anything?”

“Not unless you can think of something that would stop it from doing whatever it is doing.”

“It’s just exercising, Crowley,” Aziraphale chuckled. “You could try standing up though. Might make the baby move to a different part of the amniotic sack, away from the walls.”

Crowley sighed dramatically. “But I don’t want to get up.”

“Suit yourself, then,” Aziraphale walked into the kitchenette.

“Aaaangel,” Crowley whined.

“I can’t help you dear. There is nothing I can do to make it stop moving around. That is just a natural part of the growing process.” Aziraphale called back.

Aziraphale could tell Crowley was pouting from the sound he made in response.

“Your dad is being mean,” Aziraphale heard Crowley say from the other room. “Tryin’ t’ make me get up when I’m so comfortable just lazing here.”

Aziraphale smiled softly and walked back into the room with his mug of tea. He walked over to the sofa and bent to kiss Crowley.

“Stop being a brat.”

Crowley gasped and threw a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “How could you say something so _mean_. I didn’t know angels were capable of meanness.”

“Oh, stop that, Crowley. You and I both know I am not the spitting image of ‘angelic’.”

Crowley snorted. “Could’ve fooled me. What with all that praising and worshiping you do in the bedroom.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale had turned scarlet.

Crowley burst out laughing.

***

“I can’t go out in public anymore,” Crowley said as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Oh don’t be dramatic.”

“Seriously, Angel. I’d get stares,” Crowley smoothed a hand over his now noticeably round stomach. He got a little kick in response.

“Crowley, dear, your stomach is no more noticeable than mine.”

Crowley turned and stared at Aziraphale with a faint hurt expression.

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“No, I’m saying that if anyone here is fat it is me, and that you, to untrained eye, look similar.”

Crowley squinted.

“That. That came out wrong didn’t it?” Aziraphale asked, concerned.

“Uh, yeah, a bit,” Crowley turned back to the mirror, looking a little upset.

Aziraphale got up and walked over to Crowley. He wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist and settle his hands on Crowley’s belly.

“I’m sorry, my love. I was just trying to say that no human is going to think your stomach looks odd,” Aziraphale made eye contact with Crowley in the mirror. “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you look fat. I think you look beautiful like this.”

“Ngnk,” Crowley managed, looking shyly down.

Aziraphale gently rubbed Crowley’s stomach with his thumbs and kissed the demon’s shoulder. The baby kicked Aziraphale’s hand.

“Oh!” Aziraphale said in surprise.

“You felt that?” Crowley asked incredulously. As of yet, Aziraphale had not been able to feel the baby kicking.

“Yes, I do believe I did,” Aziraphale said with a chuckle. “Hello there little one.” 

The baby kicked again and Aziraphale made a noise of pure joy that just melted Crowley’s heart.

“I’m happy you can feel it now too,” Crowley’s hands came up to cover Aziraphale’s.

“I’ve felt babies kick before, but this is. Weirdly different. It’s delightful.”

“Mmm, I know what you mean.” Crowley smiled.

The baby kicked a few more times then seemed to settle down.

“You should try sweaters,” Aziraphale said.

“Huhn?” 

“You know, for going outside. If you wear a loose enough one, it should hide your bump.”

Crowley scoffed, “I am not wearing sweaters, in public, in the summer.”

“It was just a suggestion,” Aziraphale huffed.

“And I thank you for that, Angel. Even if it was a bloody awful suggestion.”

“Well if you are going to be mean,” Aziraphale said, moving to let go of Crowley.

Crowley tightened his grip on Aziraphale’s hands.

“Angel, don’t go. Look, I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale laughed softly and hugged Crowley tightly. The baby kicked in protest.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter this time to make up for the wait! Enjoy! Comments and Kudos are much appreciated ^u^

Aziraphale carefully balanced his bag of groceries and fished in his pocket for the key to the bookshop. He managed to get the key out of his pocket, but he fumbled and dropped it.

“Oh bugger,” he hissed quietly and made an ungraceful job of retrieving the key from the ground.

He managed to not drop it a second time and unlocked the door. Aziraphale quietly entered the bookshop, locking the door behind himself out of habit. He stood for a moment by the door, listening.

“Crowley? Dear, are you here?” he called, miraculously projecting his voice so it would be heard upstairs.

There was a loud thud from upstairs and a muffled “shit”. Aziraphale forced himself to not run up the stairs. He calmly walked through the bookshop to the entrance into the flat. Crowley was standing in the middle of the living room, looking slightly ruffled but otherwise alright when Aziraphale reached the top step. The two stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“Are you alright, my dear? I heard a thud.” Aziraphale asked.

“Ngk,” Crowley said, looking slightly embarrassed. “Y-yeah, just fell off the sofa.”

Something about the way Crowley said that made Aziraphale feel like the demon was lying, but he didn’t confront Crowley about it.

“Well, as long as you aren’t hurt…”

“I’m not!” Crowley said quickly.

Aziraphale pursed his lips, nodded, and walked into the kitchenette. Crowley, after a moment, followed him and leaned in the doorway. Aziraphale busied himself with unloading his bag of groceries. He left most of them on the counter but put a few in the fridge.

“Are we celebrating something, Angel?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale took a breath so he didn’t start panicking. He was not going to let his plans be revealed too soon. “Nothing in particular, I just felt like making us a nice meal, since we can’t go out and all,” he gestured vaguely at Crowley’s stomach.

“Mmmhm.”

Aziraphale focused on preparing the meal. He had decided on making salmon and ratatouille. It was a simple enough meal but required lots of preparation. He decided to start with the ratatouille, since it would take longer. Aziraphale got so focused in on chopping the vegetables that he didn’t even notice when Crowley drifted out of the room.

Soft music drifted into the kitchenette from the other room. Aziraphale smiled. Crowley had put on his favorite Mozart record.

Aziraphale assembled the ratatouille and put it in the small oven, setting a timer. He contemplated how to cook the salmon. Originally, Aziraphale was going to bake it, but there wasn’t enough room in the oven. He settled on pan roasting. That would have to wait though for the ratatouille to get closer to being done.

In the meantime, Aziraphale wandered into the living room. He was surprised to not find Crowley there on the sofa. Just barely over the sound of the music, Aziraphale could hear the shower.

(Odd. Crowley never showers.)

Aziraphale shook his head and settled down in his armchair. Crowley could do whatever he pleased and if that meant showering, so be it. Aziraphale fingered the slim box that was concealed in his trouser pocket then picked up a book he had been working his way through and opened it to the marked page.

Approximately twenty minutes later, Crowley emerged from the bathroom swathed in a ridiculous fluffy pink bathrobe. The demon perched himself on the arm of Aziraphale’s chair and leaned slightly forward to squint at the book. Crowley had definitely taken care to make sure his belly was still noticeable under the bathrobe. 

Aziraphale half smiled at that. Crowley had become quite proud of his bump in the last few weeks. The demon was quickly coming to terms with the whole pregnancy. Crowley had taken the time to tell Aziraphale about his conversation with the Almighty in more detail. Aziraphale figured that Crowley had settled on believing that the baby was indeed God’s “gift”.

“_More_ pregnancy literature?” Crowley asked with a scoff. “Haven’t you read enough yet?”

“Oh hush, one can never read too much, Crowley. Besides, this one is a medical text! The others have been more, well, unscientific.”

Crowley snorted. “’s not like the little bugger would be developing like a human fetus.”

“You don’t know that,” Aziraphale marked his page and closed the book, he was pouting slightly.

“Oh Angel, don’t pout,” Crowley reached out and gently took Aziraphale’s chin and turned his face. “I honestly think your desire to know everything that is happening is adorable.”

Aziraphale huffed and leaned up to kiss Crowley, if only to get him to shup up. Crowley laughed and kissed Aziraphale back. Eventually, Crowley pulled away. Aziraphale noticed a spike of anxiety wash off Crowley and was about to say something when Crowley hopped off the arm of the chair.

“I’ve gotta go get dressed for our fancy dinner,” Crowley said, sauntering from the room with a smirk.

Aziraphale watched him go and then stood up himself.

(Something is up with him.)

“Hush,” Aziraphale whispered as he made his way back into the kitchenette.

He set to preparing the fish. Once he had gotten everything ready to start cooking, Aziraphale opened the oven and removed the foil that had been covering the ratatouille. He then closed the oven again, as the dish needed to cook for about twenty more minutes. Just enough time to cook the salmon.

Aziraphale started the salmon and lost himself in cooking it to perfection. He was so focused, that when Crowley snaked two slender arms around his waist, Aziraphale jumped.

“Sorry,” Crowley murmured, placing a gentle kiss on the back of Aziraphale’s neck. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Was wondering if you needed any help in here?”

Aziraphale took a breath to settle his racing heart. “You could set the table, if you like. Just forks and knives for this meal.”

Crowley squeezed him a little tighter for a moment, his belly pressing into Aziraphale’s back, and then let go. “Sure thing, Angel.”

Crowley started setting the table as Aziraphale finished the fish and checked on the ratatouille. It still needed a few minutes, so Aziraphale put the salmon in a nice dish and set it on the table. Crowley finished setting the table as the timer for the ratatouille went off. Aziraphale went back to the oven and took out the dish setting it on the table on a potholder. He stood back and looked at the spread critically.

“I feel like something is missing,” Aziraphale said.

“Looks amazing to me,” Crowley hummed.

“Oh! The bread!” Aziraphale turned and took out the baguette he had purchased.

He quickly cut it into a few slices and placed them in a basket on the table.

“There, now everything is ready. Time to eat!”

The two sat down at the table and served themselves. Crowley piled food on his plate. It was amusing to Aziraphale the gusto with which Crowley ate now that he had to. The demon had never had much of an affinity to food before.

Crowley scooped up a forkful of salmon and ratatouille and took a bite. He groaned in an absolutely filthy fashion as he chewed slowly.

“This is amazing, Angel,” Crowley said around a mouthful of food.

Aziraphale blushed and squirmed a little in his seat. “I’m glad you like it, dear.”

They ate in relative silence for a while. Crowley was absolutely wolfing down his food. Aziraphale was glad he made a full recipe of the ratatouille as he watched Crowley take seconds and then thirds. Aziraphale himself only ate a single serving and a couple of slices of bread.

His stomach was twisting in knots of anticipation as the meal reached its end. Aziraphale kept thumbing the little box in his pocket as they ate.

(Just do it already.)

No, Aziraphale was going to wait until after desert. He had gotten a lovely little set of macarons from a new bakery that he had found.

Crowley finished his food and pushed his plate away. He sat back in his chair and patted his stomach with a contented sigh.

“That was delicious.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said, trying to stop his voice from shaking. “Would you like desert?”

“Mmmn, not yet. Gotta let the food settle a little bit first. ‘Sides I’ve got a question for you.”

“Alright. I’ll just clear the dishes away real quick, if that’s alright?”

“Go ahead, Angel.”

Aziraphale got up and made quick work of clearing the table. His hands were shaking slightly as he rinsed the plates and put what remained of the ratatouille in the fridge. Once everything was off the table, Aziraphale pulled out a pair of small plates and set them on the table. Then he sat back down.

“Well, what was your question dear?”

A flash of anxiety pierced the air as Crowley sat up straighter. He regarded Aziraphale with a loving expression then pushed himself up from the table. Aziraphale watched as Crowley walked around to his side of the table. His heart nearly stopped in his chest as Crowley awkwardly made his way down onto one knee.

The demon pulled a ring out of the pocket of his sweatpants and locked eyes with Aziraphale. 

“Aziraphale, love of my life, my best friend for more that 6000 years, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Aziraphale gaped and then started hysterically laughing. Crowley blinked in confusion and mild hurt. Aziraphale tried to speak, but he was laughing too hard. He fumbled, reaching into his trousers pocket and drew out the little box he had been hiding. Crowley stared as Aziraphale opened the box with shaking hands and revealed another ring. Crowley looked from the ring up to the still laughing Aziraphale and back. Then he too started laughing. 

The two laughed for a moment before Aziraphale collected himself enough to speak, “I-it looks like-like we h-had the same idea, m-my dear.”

Crowley surged upward and kissed Aziraphale fiercely. “So, is that a yes then?” he said breathlessly.

“Yes, a thousand times over, yes,” Aziraphale laughed and kissed Crowley again.

They exchanged rings and compared. Both rings were simple bands. The one Crowley had gotten was a bright yellow gold, and the one that Aziraphale had bought was shining silver. 

“It’s beautiful, Crowley.”

“I’m glad you like it, Angel. Thought it would be too simple.”

“No, it’s perfect. Do you like yours?”

“Yes, I do, very much. Now, what was that you said about desert?”

Aziraphale laughed again and got up to get the macarons.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a writing MACHINE today, so have another chapter. Comments and kudos are appreciated!

“Who are we going to invite?” Aziraphale asked as he perused a list of wedding venues on Crowley’s laptop.

“Ngk, you want to _invite_ people?”

Aziraphale looked up a Crowley. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”

Crowley gave Aziraphale a look that asked “are you serious” and gestured at his very round and very obvious stomach. Aziraphale looked down at Crowley’s stomach briefly.

“Well, of course we will _tell_ them about the baby. I was only thinking of inviting people who know we aren’t human.”

“And who exactly would that be?”

“Oh, you know, just Sergeant Shadwell and that Madame Tracy as well as Anathema and her boy. Oh, and maybe Adam Young, if we can figure out how to convince his parents to let him attend the wedding of what they see as strangers.”

“Angel. We haven’t spoken to any of those people since Armageddon.”

“No, _you_ haven’t spoken to them. I’ve been keeping contact with them all.”

__

__

Crowley huffed in annoyance. “Of course you have.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What do you say to inviting them?”

“Hhhng. Fine. Sure. Invite the whole of Soho for all I care.”

Aziraphale sighed and looked at Crowley. “Dear, if it really bothers you-“

“No, it’s fine, Angel,” Crowley took a breath to calm himself. “I’m just- I don’t even know. I guess scared of how they will react to me being pregnant.” Crowley crossed his arms over his stomach protectively.

“I’m sure they will be excited for us. They do already know we aren’t human.”

“I guess you’re right… You find any good venues yet?”

“I was thinking maybe somewhere private in the South Downs. What do you think?”

“Like by the sea?”

“Yes, I think it would be lovely.”

“Yeah, I like that. We could rent a cottage. Maybe even just do it in the garden.”

Aziraphale smiled and closed the laptop.

***

Crowley maintained an air of carefully constructed indifference as Aziraphale dialed Madame Tracy’s number. Crowley didn’t know why Aziraphale had decided to start there, but that didn’t really matter. Crowley was a ball of nervous anxiety and it was taking all his concentration to not spontaneously discorporate.

Aziraphale’s face lit up as Madame Tracy answered the phone.

“Hello Madame Tracy! It’s Aziraphale… I’ve been well, thank you. How are you? … Yes, well, I actually have some great news,” Aziraphale glanced at Crowley and smiled. “You see, Crowley and I are getting married!” Aziraphale paused to chuckle. “Well, yes, that is why I am calling after all. You and Sergeant Shadwell are invited… It will be in the South Downs in three weeks, it is planned to be a rather small and informal affair… Yes, well, we can’t delay it too long, you see. It just so happens that we are expecting! … A baby, my dear… Ah, well, you see we aren’t exactly sure how it happened either. We suspect it was Devine intervention, but in a good way… Oh no dear, not me. Crowley is carrying the child… About five months now… Yes… Fantastic! I will get to you soon with the exact location of the venue… Alrighty, thank you, I will be in touch. Bye bye now!”

Aziraphale hung up the phone and turned to Crowley. Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Madame Tracy extends her congratulations and says she and Sergeant Shadwell will most definitely make the trip down!”

“Mm,” Crowley said, feeling some relief. “Who’s next?”

“Anathema and her boy. And then Adam Young.”

“Mm.”

Aziraphale turned back to phone and dialed again. He had a similar conversation with Anathema, though she was less quick to believe Aziraphale that Crowley was pregnant and needed to sit down for a drink in the middle of the call. Anathema and Newt also agreed to make it to the wedding.

The call with Adam was a little different.

“Ah, hello, I was wondering if I may perhaps speak to your son, Adam? … A friend of his ... yes, thank you Mr. Young,” Aziraphale played with the phone cord as he waited.

Adam’s response was loud enough that Crowley could hear it, “Ello?”

“Hello Adam! It’s Aziraphale.”

“Oh, hi. Why’re you calling? You never call, only ever write.”

“Yes, well, I am calling to invite you to Crowley and I’s wedding!”

“Oh, you’re finally getting married then,” there was a pause. “Wait, you’re having a baby too?”

Aziraphale gaped. “I-well, yes. Yes, we are. How did you-”

“Dunno, just did. Congrats though. Both on the getting married and the baby things.”

“Yes, thank you, Adam.”

“I’ll find a way to make it to the weddin’”

“Oh that’s fantastic, thank you dear.”

“Course.”

The rest of the conversation just involved Aziraphale going over details with Adam. Adam said he would Know the exact location when he needed to and so Mr. Aziraphale didn’t need to call him to let him know.

Aziraphale set the phone back on the receiver. “Well, that was an odd call.”

Crowley snorted and pushed himself out of his chair. “Any call with the Antichrist is bound to be ‘odd’. So, now we need to settle on a venue.”

Aziraphale nodded and the two went back upstairs to the flat.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an absolute beast and mostly borrowed from here: https://theamm.org/wedding-training/ceremony-scripts/sample-wedding-ceremony-scripts#ceremony-8 . 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!! I had a ton of fun writing this one. Comments and kudos, as always, are appreciated!
> 
> P.S. This is The Dress: http://oanaandmariaheller.storenvy.com/products/17358689-renaissance-inspired-burgundy-dress  
Also, kudos to those of you who can spot the nods toward Atalan's Pray For Us, Icarus series!

Crowley stood in front of the mirror in the tiny cramped second bathroom of the little South Downs cottage he and Aziraphale had rented for the weekend. He was fiddling with his outfit, trying to get it to look as prim and proper as possible. He hadn’t bothered with a tailor and instead just miracled an outfit, so it actually fit him perfectly. Crowley just needed something to put his nervous energy into. He was excited and so very scared about the coming ceremony.

Crowley had decided to not deal with trousers and so had made himself a dress. He smoothed his hands over his belly, reveling in the feel of the silky material. The dress itself was a deep burgundy and of an Italian Renaissance style with a loose waist and sheer sleeves. Crowley had also decided it was time for a change of hair style as well and had made his hair longer. It was now pulled back halfway with braids. The rest fell above his shoulders in loose waves.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

“Who is it?” Crowley asked.

“Me dear,” Madame Tracy’s voice said from the other side of the door.

Crowley opened the door. Madame Tracy gasped and looked him up and down.

“Oh you look lovely!” 

Crowley felt himself blush slightly.

“Thank you,” he said meekly. Crowley wasn’t used to praise, especially from people who were not Aziraphale.

“Oh, I am so glad you changed your hair, dear. I was worried that my gift wouldn’t work well with your short hair!”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Gift?”

“Yes! You and Mr. Fell both need something to fill those old wedding traditions, seeing as there isn’t really a bride at this wedding. So I have something for both of you. I’ve already given Mr. Fell his,” Madame Tracy reached into her purse and drew out a small jewelry box. “Sit down, dear, and I’ll put it in your hair.”

Crowley would have like to see what “it” was before he had it on, but sat down on the toilet none the less.

Madame Tracy squeezed into the room and opened the box. Crowley got a glimpse of silver and light purple, and then Madame Tracy was carefully arranging “it” in his hair.

After a few minutes and much turning of Crowley’s head, Madame Tracy stepped back and clasped her hands together. “Oh, Mr. Crowley, dear, you look stunning.”

Crowley blushed again and stood up. Madame Tracy shuffled out of the bathroom to let Crowley get access to the mirror. Crowley looked at himself and gasped. “It” turned out to be a delicate chain of silver made to look like winding vines. At intervals along the vines in clusters were enamel wisteria blossoms. Crowley miracled a hand mirror to get a look at the back of his hair. The vines and flowers wound around his braids and bun. The effect was almost ethereal. 

Crowley turned to Madame Tracy. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

Madame Tracy beamed. “Of course dear,” the beginnings of music drifted in from the garden. “Oh! That’s our queue! I’ll see you out there.” Madame Tracy winked and bustled off.

Crowley took a breath and waited for his queue in the music. He took another breath and made his way to the backdoor of the cottage. He wished he had a bouquet, or anything really to hold, to do something with his hands. But he didn’t because Aziraphale was the one with a bouquet, because he had insisted on having one.

His song started. Crowley bit his tongue and opened the door. Everyone was staring at him. Crowley heard a gasp; he didn’t know from where. He made dead eye contact with the priest Aziraphale had called in to officiate on a favor.

(Look at him you idiot. Move your fucking legs and look at your Angel.)

Crowley swallowed and began walking. His eyes raked over the small number of assembled people. Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell hand in hand; Anathema and Newt who was crying; Adam Young, Dog and somehow the Them. To how all four children had made it, Crowley wasn’t sure, nor did he really care. Finally, Crowley’s eyes fell on Aziraphale as he reached the alter. He looked radiant.

Aziraphale was dressed in a simple but totally Aziraphale suit. The trousers and outer coat were a pale but rich blue and were paired with a blue tartan vest and white shirt. In place of Aziraphale’s usual bowtie was a pair of gold chains that stretched from one point of his shirt collar to the other. The chains ended at both sides with what looked to be golden olive branches. He also had a small bouquet of pale pink carnations and white roses that was awkwardly tucked into his coat pocket.

(So that was Madame Tracy’s gift to him then. The weird collar chain thing.)

Crowley reached out and took Aziraphale's hands. Aziraphale smiled that beautiful soft smile he saved only for Crowley and squeezed Crowley’s hands.

The priest cleared his throat. Crowley and Aziraphale looked away from each other and turned to face the priest, interlocking arms. Everyone else took their seats.

Crowley had not yet heard or even read what the priest was going to say today. He had left that task in Aziraphale’s capable hands. 

Crowley listened with bated breath as the priest began, “Welcome, family and loved ones. We are gathered here today, surrounded by the beauty of creation and nurtured by the sights and sounds of nature to celebrate the joining of Crowley and Aziraphale in marriage.

“Today is a celebration. A celebration of love, of commitment, of friendship, of family, and of two people who are in it for forever.

“You don't have to have a ceremony to have a marriage. And when you think about it, the whole thing is kind of weird, right? You're standing in front of everyone, looking fancy, holding flowers, and being stared at by so many of those who you hold near and dear. So why do we do it? The marriage ceremony has been an important feature across nearly every culture, religion, generation, and society. We have thousands of important moments that happen throughout our lives, but this one is regarded as one so critical, we acknowledge its special status by sharing it with others. Why this moment?

“Because despite all of our differences, love is what we all share. It's the great unifier - our one universal truth. That no matter who we are, where we've come from, what we believe, we know this one thing: love is what we're doing right. That's why you both are standing here.

“That's why you all are here to watch them stand up here. We have all loved in our lifetimes, and in this moment, we're reminded that the ability to love is the very best part of our humanity, whether that humanity be what we were born with or what we have learned.

“All of us here today have our own love stories. Some are short, others long. Some are yet unwritten, while others are just getting to the good part. There are chapters in all of our stories that are sad or disappointing - and others that are exciting and full of adventure.

“And that brings them here. A time to pause, look back, and smile at all the moments that brought them here. And a time to look ahead at all the moments that are still to come.

“I'm here - we're all here - because we want those moments for you. We're here to hope with you, to support you, to be proud of you, and to remind you that love isn't happily ever after, love is the experience of writing your story. It's not one moment - not even this moment. It's every moment. Big ones like saying 'I love you,' moving in together, getting engaged - but mostly a million little ones that come in between the big moments. Falling asleep next to one another, making dinner together, sharing your hobbies with each other getting a big hug when you get home from work… These everyday moments fuse together into one big experience.

“And even though this experience is so incredible, words fail us when we try and explain it. That's just the way it is with love - it's meant to be felt, not described.

“But trying to describe love is one of our favorite pastimes as humans. We use the words we have to write stories, and poems, and songs about love. And even though we describe love in different ways - and even though love can look different from one person to the next - we all know it when we see it. And we see it here.

“You fell in love by chance, but you're here today because you're making a choice. You both are choosing each other. You've chosen to be with someone who enhances you, who makes you think, makes you smile, and makes every day brighter. You're about to make promises to each other that you intend to keep. You're going to vow to take care of each other, to stand up for one another, and find happiness in the other. There's a simple premise to each of these promises: you're vowing to be there. You're teaming up and saying to the other, 'Every experience I am going to have, I want you to be a part of.'”

The priest paused to turn the page of his script.

“Aziraphale and Crowley, please join hands, look at one another now and remember this moment in time.”

Crowley and Aziraphale turned toward each other and joined hands as instructed. They looked deep into each other’s eyes. They were both on the verge of tears.

The priest turned to Aziraphale, “Will you, Aziraphale, keep Crowley as your favorite person - to laugh with him, go on adventures with him, support him through life's tough moments, be proud of him, and find new reasons to love him every day?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat and spoke, “I will.”

The priest then turned to Crowley, “Will you, Crowley, keep Aziraphale as your favorite person - to laugh with him, go on adventures with him, support him through life's tough moments, be proud of him, and find new reasons to love him every day?”

“I will,” Crowley said barely loud enough to be heard.

“Will you, Crowley and Aziraphale, be each other's partners from this day forward? Will you bring out the best in one another, share your happiest moments together, and love each other absolutely - for the rest of this lifetime and for whatever may come next?”

The two shared a moment of silence before Aziraphale nodded slightly.

They spoke in perfect unison, “We will.”

The priest motioned at Adam, who brought forward Dog. Dog had been decided on being the ring bearer and currently had two matching rings affixed to his collar. Adam picked up Dog and waited.

The priest continued, “You've both chosen to wear rings as a reminder of these promises. People often say wedding bands are a perfect circle, with no beginning and no end. But these rings did have a beginning. The stones were formed a long time ago deep within the earth.

“Eventually, a series of lucky events caused them to rise to the surface, where someone dug them up. Metal was then liquefied in a furnace - molded, cooled, and painstakingly polished. Something beautiful was made from raw elements.

“Love is like that. It comes from humble beginnings, and through a combination of serendipity and effort, imperfect beings shape it into something extraordinary. It's the process of making something beautiful where there was once nothing at all. As you look at these rings over the years, I hope you remember that. You've created something invaluable, and just as I know you'll protect these rings, I'm confident you'll protect the commitments you've made to one another today.”

The priest motioned for Aziraphale to pick up a ring, which he did, carefully removing it from Dog’s collar.

“Aziraphale, as you place this ring on Crowley's finger, repeat these words after me: This ring symbolizes my love for you and the commitments we made today.”

“This ring symbolizes my love for you and the commitments we made today,” Aziraphale repeated as he slid the cool band of gold and a single diamond onto Crowley’s finger.

Crowley didn’t wait for a queue; he just turned and took Aziraphale’s ring from Dog’s collar as soon as Aziraphale let go of his hand.

The priest continued, “Crowley, as you place this ring on Aziraphale's finger, repeat these words after me: This ring symbolizes my love for you and the commitments we made today.”

“T-this ring sssymbolizes my love f-for you and-and the commitments w-we made today,” Crowley stuttered and slid the silver band onto Aziraphale’s finger with a shaking hand. Their wedding bands matched, both being very simple with a single diamond set into the band. The only difference was the metal.

Aziraphale and Crowley held hands again.

“Crowley and Aziraphale, you have come here today of your own free will and in the presence of family and loved ones, have declared your love and commitment to each other. You have given and received rings as a symbol of your promises. By the power of your love and commitment to each other, and by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now seal your vows with a kiss.”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley forward in a startling fashion and smashed his mouth against Crowley’s as if his life depended on it. Crowley, after regaining his composure form the momentary shock of Aziraphale’s aggressiveness, twined his arms around the angel and kissed him back. There was a small hoot from one of the Them and Crowley and Aziraphale pulled apart with mild embarrassment. Both were grinning from ear to ear, and if their eyes were a little moist or a tear or two escaped down their cheeks, no one mentioned it.

“Congratulations. Family and loved ones, I now present to you the newly married couple Aziraphale and Crowley. Let's hear it for 'em!” the priest concluded.

The small assembly stood and began clapping enthusiastically. The newlyweds locked arms and rushed back down the isle and into the cottage where they would spend their first half hour as a married couple together in the privacy of a locked bedroom while their guests set up the reception.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, more angst. I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. I just came up with the idea for this chapter and had to run with it. I promise there is going to be more fluff!! Hope y'all enjoy this! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated.

Crowley woke with the vague memory of soft lips, radiant hair, and a musical laugh. He couldn’t remember much more about his dream other than he had been happy. Crowley knew the dream was his brain replaying memories from his time in Heaven. This wasn’t the first time he had such a dream. They always left him feeling slightly mournful for the life he had lost and the lover he had abandoned.

Crowley knew he had been with _someone_ while he was still an angel. Who they were, however, had been one of the few things Heaven had stripped from him in his Fall. All he had left were the half memories from his dreams. The fact that he had abandoned someone he had obviously cared a lot about, if his dreams were any indication, always made Crowley feel guilty when he thought about it.  
Crowley rubbed his eyes and was mildly surprised to find his cheek wet with tears. He turned slightly to look at Aziraphale, who was still sleeping soundly in the bed beside him. With great care as to not wake Aziraphale, Crowley got up and out of bed, which was easier said than done given the added weight of the baby. Then he quietly left the bedroom.

He went to go stand at one of the windows in the living room of the flat overlooking the quiet street below. It was still rather late, and the street was empty. Crowley smoothed a hand over his belly and sighed.

It wasn’t productive to feel guilty about something that happened more than 6000 years ago, and Crowley knew that, but he couldn’t help it. He wondered if the angel who had been his partner still remembered him, and if they did, if they were even an angel still, did they hate him? Crowley used to not be able to imagine the kind of hurt that angel must have gone through when he fell. Now he did know. He knew intimately just how soul wrenching and excruciating it was, or at least he thought he had a pretty damn good idea. When he thought he had lost Aziraphale-

“That’s enough,” he hissed at himself and wiped away a few tears that had slipped out of his eyes at the memory.

Best case scenario, Heaven had blessed Crowley’s unlucky partner and remove him from their memory when he Fell. That would have been the kind and clean thing to do. Erase the memory of a lost loved one for the sanity of the angel and for the sake of productivity and risk management. Had the situation been reverse, Crowley was confident he would have forced himself to Fall with his lover to be with them.

Crowley lifted his left hand and turned it back and forth in the dim light so that the diamond on his wedding band glinted slightly. He and Aziraphale had been married all of a month and a half. Crowley loved Aziraphale with his whole being, and that made him feel even more guilty, which he knew was completely stupid. He felt like he had abandoned one love and married another. It felt like he was betraying this person he couldn’t even fucking remember.

The baby shifted and kicked Crowley’s hand, drawing him out of his negative thoughts.. He smiled softly and rubbed his belly. Then a horrible thought came into his head.

What if he had had children in Heaven? What if it wasn’t only a partner he had abandoned? Crowley knew that Heaven allowed angels to procreate with each other and had been allowed to for some time. It was entirely possible he had a fledgling or two up there who didn’t understand why he had left them.

A sob escaped from Crowley’s throat before he could stop it fully. He quickly found himself powerless to stem the tide of emotions and sank to the floor in a shaking sobbing mess.

There was a gentle hand on Crowley’s shoulder that made him jump. He looked up through bleary eyes and saw Aziraphale. 

“What’s wrong, my love?” Aziraphale asked softly, his voice betraying his concern.

Crowley’s lip trembled and he shook his head. He looked away from Aziraphale and buried his face in his hands. How could he tell Aziraphale what he had been thinking? It would destroy the angel.

Aziraphale sank to his knees beside Crowley and hugged him tightly. 

“Oh, my dear, it’s alright. Just cry out what you need to.”

Crowley turned into Aziraphale and buried his face in the angel’s chest. He let himself cry for a little while until it started to feel a bit ridiculous. Then he forced himself to calm down, his sobs dissolving into pitiful sniffles.

Aziraphale held him through the whole ordeal gently stroking Crowley’s hair and rubbing his back. The angel let silence hang over them when Crowley finished crying.

The angel’s embrace made Crowley fell brave, braver than he had any right to be given the situation, and he did something immeasurably stupid because of it. He spoke.

“I had a dream about Heaven,” he started and felt Aziraphale go very still. “I dreamt about my life there. It’s happened before, the dreams, I never remember them well when I wake up. I always dream about the same thing, the same person. I-I don’t know who it is. Just know I loved them and-and that I abandoned them.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale spoke gently but firmly. “You did not mean to abandon them, whoever they were. I’ve heard you talk about your Fall. I know you did not mean to Fall. You, of all of those cast out then, were one of the least deserving. If this person you were with then knew you well, they would have known you did not mean to leave them.”

Crowley sighed against Aziraphale’s chest. He knew Aziraphale’s words held truth to them, but it was hard to accept that truth.

“I lost many people in the Fall,” Aziraphale continued. He sounded a little wistful and Crowley didn’t really know where he was going with this. “Many angels who I, to this day, don’t think should have been cast out. There are a few I don’t remember very well, whether that be from time or Heaven’s intervention, a few I was particularly close to. When they fell, I did not feel abandoned or betrayed. I just felt so very sad for them. I felt so sad that they had been let down by the Almighty. But I forgive Her and I forgive them for any actions that did cause them to fall.”

Crowley still had no fucking idea why Aziraphale had told him that, but it made him feel weirdly better.

“Let’s go back to bed, Angel.”

“Of course, my love.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some slightly more fluffy stuff to make up for that last chapter! I wrote most of this during a blackout and was kinda worried we wouldn't get power back to post it today, but here we are!! Hope y'all enjoy! Comments and kudos are always appreciated.

Aziraphale spent less and less time in the book shop not selling books as Crowley’s pregnancy progressed. As Crowley moved into the seventh month of his pregnancy, Aziraphale rarely opened the shop at all. He spent most of his time with Crowley now, doting on the demon as much as Crowley tolerated.

At the moment, the demon in question was sprawled out on the sofa and sulking. Crowley was feeling uncomfortable because of the baby and was just generally grumpy. He had been experiencing increased mobility issues in the last week and he was feeling constantly bored.

Aziraphale was sitting in his chair as Crowley tossed and turned the best he could on the sofa. The demon was turning his little sulk fest into quite the show, what with his thrashing and exaggerated groaning with discomfort. It was starting to get on Aziraphale’s nerves.

“What do you say to finding out the sex?” Aziraphale asked in an attempt to distract Crowley.

“Huhn?” Crowley said, looking up at Aziraphale.

“The baby, Crowley. What do you say about finding out its sex?”

“Oh, uh, I dunno. Kinda was just gonna wait and see when its born.”

Aziraphale hummed in affirmation, “we haven’t even begun discussing names. I guess, if you would like to discuss names, we could choose a few gender-neutral ones? Unless you would like to change your stance on finding out the sex.”

Crowley sighed and rolled over onto his side. “Why don’t we just wait? Wait to see what it is, wait to name it. I like the idea of waiting.”

“I can see where you are coming from, Crowley, but I also think it would be good to at least have a handful of names at the ready.”

“Hmmmn,” Crowley said.

“If it really makes you uncomfortable, we can drop the subject for now,” Aziraphale closed his book and put it down.

“Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.” Crowley snapped his fingers and a blanket appeared over top of him.

Aziraphale shook his head softly and stood up. 

“I’m going to make some cocoa, would you like anything, dear?”

“Hhhnn, uhhh, cocoa sounds good,” Crowley burrowed into his blanket.

Aziraphale chuckled and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with two mugs of cocoa. He set both on the coffee table and knelt on the ground next to the sofa. Just they very top of Crowley’s head was sticking out from his blanket in a ridiculous red tuft. Aziraphale rand his fingers through what was accessible of Crowley’s hair.

Crowley pulled the blanket away from his face and pressed the top of his head into Aziraphale’s hand.

“Mmmn,” Crowley purred.

“Do you like that, my dear?”

“Mmhmm, feels good.”

Aziraphale kept petting Crowley. The demon let out a contented sigh. After a while, Crowley opened his eyes and looked at Aziraphale.

“You know I love you, right?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Yes, I do, Crowley. And I love you too. With every ounce of my being.”

Crowley looked weirdly sad all of a sudden, his brow creasing.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, his hand stopped moving of its own accord.

“I-I don’t know. Just, felt like we’ve had this conversation before, like I’ve heard you say that. But I know I haven’t.”

Aziraphale frowned. “That’s odd. Are you sure I haven’t told you that before?”

Crowley nodded. “It’s probably nothing.” He shook his head and propped himself up slightly on an elbow. “Didn’t you say you were going to make cocoa?”

“Ah, yes, I did,” Aziraphale turned and grabbed the mugs of cocoa, handing one to Crowley. “There you are, my dear.”

Crowley took the mug and drank deeply from it. “Mmmm, that’s good. Thank you, Angel.”

“You are very welcome.”

The two sat and drank their cocoa, and when they were done, Aziraphale went back to stroking Crowley’s hair until the demon fell asleep.

***

“Crowley, we need to make a birth plan,” Aziraphale said out of the blue one night while he and Crowley were cuddling.

“Ngk, a w-what?” Crowley responded, craning his neck to try and look at the angel who was plastered to his back.

“A birth plan, with things like what hospital you want to give birth at, any pain management things you want, how you want to give birth, and any supplies we need.”

Crowley huffed. “I am _not_ giving birth in hospital,” he hissed.

“Crowley, I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Why not? It’s not like I’m human. Plus I’m a _man_.”

“What if something goes wrong? You aren’t suggesting we do it on our own, are you?”

“I am, Aziraphale. I want to give birth here, at home, with just you. It’ll be fine, Angel. I trust you. And there isn’t really anything that could go wrong that we couldn’t fix,” Crowley turned himself in Aziraphale’s arms and looked into the angel’s eyes. “I have faith that everything will go just fine.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Well, we still need a plan,” he said slowly. “Especially if we are going to do this on our own.”

“Are you really going to drop the hospital thing so readily?” Crowley teased lightly.

“Yes, if what you really want is to give birth here, then there is no point wasting my breath arguing with you. I do know how to deliver a baby.”

“Oh? When have you had to deliver a baby before?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “Well, I had to learn how to deliver a baby for when Jesus was born, seeing as I was the only angel stationed on Earth at the time, in case Mary and Joseph needed assistance. And I have delivered the odd baby here and there over the millennia, when needed.”

Crowley snorted in amusement. “I can’t imagine you delivering a baby.”

Aziraphale pouted. “And why’s that?”

“I dunno, you just don’t seem the type.”

“Well, I have done it, and there is nothing that can change it. Do you or do you not want me to deliver our baby? Or would you prefer to do it yourself if you doubt my skills?”

Crowley’s eyes widened in shock and fear. “Angel, please, I want you to. I was only teasing.”

“Right, of course you were,” Crowley though he saw Aziraphale’s cheeks redden.

Aziraphale had always struggled with Crowley’s very specific brand of humor and sarcasm. Crowley had come to accept over the years that he was just shit at it and his, often times, blatant rudeness was just a product of his demonic nature. But he did know when he had fucked up.

Crowley reached out and put a hand on Aziraphale’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s alright, Crowley. Really. You didn’t upset me, I promise.”

As if to prove his point, Aziraphale leaned forward and kissed Crowley gently.

“I would be happy to deliver our baby, if that is really what you want,” he said when he pulled back.

“That is what I want, Aziraphale. I’ll make a birth plan or whatever with you so long as I can have the baby here, in our home, with just you.”

Aziraphale nodded. “You _will_ let me call the ambulance if something goes wrong beyond my abilities to fix?”

Crowley knew Aziraphale was scared. He was too, more than scared, he was fucking terrified. But Crowley trusted Aziraphale, and he had a feeling She wouldn’t let anything go too wrong. That was if Crowley was right about what She meant in his dream by giving him a gift.

“If, in the event that something does go absolutely horribly fucking wrong, then yes, I give you permission to do whatever you need to do to save me and the baby.”  
Aziraphale smiled wearily. “Thank you, my dear.”

Crowley really didn’t like the idea of anyone else getting involved with this, but if it was necessary, he would allow it. But only if it was necessary.

“Let’s talk about this more in the morning, yeah?” Crowley said.

“Alright, we can talk about it more tomorrow.”

Crowley kissed Aziraphale. “Thanks Angel.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I was busy with traveling and visiting family for the Thanksgiving holiday!!! Hope y'all enjoy this one! It's brief but I've got big things planned for the next chapter.... Comments and kudos are always appreciated!!

Crowley woke up from a nap to what sounded like a bunch large vipers had been let loose in the flat, what with all the hissing and banging coming from the other room. He sat up in bed and listened intently, trying to figure out what exactly he was listening to. It was highly unlikely that there were actually multiple large snakes in the other room.

Slowly, Crowley’s mind let go of the idea of snakes and he was able to listen more precisely to the noises outside of the bedroom. As it turned out, he was actually hearing several people moving about and talking in whispers.

(What the fuck?)

“What the fuck?” Crowley echoed the voice inside his head.

He considered leaving the bedroom, but some primal instinct told him he shouldn’t. He sat and listened for a little while longer, trying to make out what the people were saying.

Eventually, he got fed up with waiting and called out, “Aziraphale?”

The noises in the flat immediately stopped. For a second there was complete silence, and then there was the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Aziraphale opened the bedroom door and peaked his head around it.

“Yes, dear? Is something wrong?” Aziraphale asked with concern and badly faked nonchalance.

“Who the fuck is in our flat and what are all of you doing out there?” 

Aziraphale blushed. “Ah, I see. Time is up then, I guess. Get yourself dressed and come out and see! I’ll just go tell everyone you are awake.”

Aziraphale disappeared back around the door, shutting it as he went.

“Aziraphale, wait! Ngk, what the fuck?” Crowley stared at the closed door. 

Someone laughed in the other room. Crowley huffed in annoyance and slithered out of bed. Might as well see what was happening.

He struggled into some semi-decent clothing and shuffled to the door. Crowley opened it slowly and walked out into the living room. 

Aziraphale, Anathema Device, Newton Pulsifer, and Madame Tracy were standing in the middle of the living room which had been decorated in an array of pastels. Crowley blinked in surprised confusion.

“What is this?”

“A baby shower, dearie,” Madame Tracy said. “I figured you deserved to have one and Mr. Fell agreed to let Anathema and I throw you a surprise one! Though you did wake up before we were quite ready, I’m afraid. The snacks aren’t quite finished.”

“I- uh- o-okay,” Crowley stuttered. He didn’t know what to think.

Everyone stood and stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. Then Madame Tracy turned and bustled out of the room and into the kitchenette.

“Mr. Pulsifer, would you be a dear and help me with the nibbles?” she called.

Newt swallowed, turned and called back, “yes, I’ll be right there.”

He went into the kitchenette. The spell seemed to be broken and Aziraphale moved toward Crowley.

“Why don’t you sit down, Crowley? I do hope this little party is alright. Madame Tracy absolutely insisted that you have this 'baby shower'”

Crowley let Aziraphale lead him to the sofa and sat down.

“Yeah, it’s fine, Angel. Just a bit shocking to wake up to a bunch of people in your flat, unannounced.”

Aziraphale chuckled uncomfortably.

“I told Marjorie that a surprise baby shower was a silly idea, but she wouldn’t have it any other way,” Anathema said, sitting down on a dining chair that had been brought into the room. “I was also confused when she told me to bring Newt. From what I know of baby showers, they generally aren’t a thing for men. But then again…” she trailed off, gesturing lamely at Crowley.

Crowley snorted and drew his legs up onto the sofa so that he was sitting cross-legged. 

The baby shower ended up being the weirdest “party” that Crowley had ever been a part of. It involved a lot of sitting and drinking tea and having nibbles and talking quietly. Then there were a few small games that Madame Tracy insisted on. There was a fair share of uncomfortable questions. Aziraphale ended up jumping in and explaining that they were not decided on many things regarding the baby. And then there were the gifts.

Anathema and Newt had gotten a few sets of mostly gender-neutral clothes and a small stuffed bear. Madame Tracy had also brought some clothes, which she explained were hers when she was little, along with some other baby bits and bobs she had found in her things.

To say Crowley was exhausted by the time Aziraphale got Madame Tracy to shuffle out the door a matter of hours later would be an understatement. 

Aziraphale came back into the living room to find Crowley curled up on the sofa staring at the wall. 

“Crowley, are you alright dear?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley blinked sharply and looked at Aziraphale.

“Uh, yeah, jus' tired 's all,” he yawned as if to prove his point.

Aziraphale nodded and set to tidying up. The guests had cleaned up most of the original mess, bless them, but there were still the gifts and a few dishes to clean up. That and Aziraphale wanted to feel useful, for no particular reason other than Crowley had been giving off an infectious restless energy earlier in the day. 

Aziraphale went into the kitchenette to wash what dishes remained. He had always preferred to do most things the human way, especially when it came to small tasks like cleaning. That habit was probably partially the fault of Heaven for telling Aziraphale off for using too many miracles before.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley called.

“What is it, my dear?” Aziraphale called back as he scrubbed at a plate.

“Come ‘ere, the baby is kicking, and I want cuddles.”

Aziraphale chuckled and miracled away the rest of the mess. He had better things to do than stand around cleaning. He walked into the living room and joined his husband on the sofa.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go!! I think this may be the longest chapter in this fic, about 3000 words. Warning for some graphic stuff. Hope y'all enjoy!!! Comments and kudos are appreciated.

Crowley felt on edge but didn’t know why. He had felt on edge since the night before and hadn’t slept. At the moment, he was laying in bed, on his side, trying to glare a hole in the wall. Crowley wasn’t entirely sure if Aziraphale, in the bed behind him, was asleep or not, and he wasn’t about to make Aziraphale worried for what was probably nothing. 

The baby had been weirdly still for the past 24 hours, which was probably contributing to He rubbed his stomach without thinking and was surprised when the skin of his belly seemed to tighten under his hand. Crowley gasped in surprise. 

Aziraphale rolled over in the bed and spoke, “is everything alright, my dear?”

“Ngk, uh, y-yeah. I just had a funny feeling ‘s all.”

“A funny feeling?”

“Probably just one of those practice contractions you were telling me about, it’s probably nothing,” Crowley said, trying more to convince himself than Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was silent for a long moment. “Alright, if you are sure…”

“Yes, very sure.” Crowley said.

Aziraphale went silent again, and Crowley assumed he had gone back to whatever state he had been in prior. Crowley laid there for a while longer, then he struggled out of bed and waddled (oh yeah, he waddled now, fan-fucking-tastic) to the kitchenette. He made himself a mug of tea and then waddled slowly into the living room, where he sat down heavily on the sofa. Crowley sipped his tea and rubbed his belly.

He still felt on edge. If anything, it was worse now. He sighed heavily and looked down at his stomach.

“Why do I feel like this?” he asked his belly.

His stomach tightened again in response. This time it was slightly painful. Crowley winced.

“Oww,” he said under his breath.

“Crowley? Are you sure you are alright?” Aziraphale’s voice said from behind Crowley.

Crowley turned his head and looked at the angel, who had emerged from the bedroom.

“Just another practice contraction, Angel.”

Aziraphale frowned and came around the sofa to sit next to Crowley. He placed a hand on Crowley’s stomach.

“You haven’t had any practice contractions before. I wonder why they’ve started now. It’s odd, if you were going to have any, you should have been having them for a few weeks now,” Aziraphale gently rubbed Crowley’s stomach then frowned again. “Has the baby been kicking?”

“No, not really since the day after yesterday.”

Aziraphale’s hand stilled.

“Crowley, are you absolutely certain these are _practice_ contractions?”

“What the fuck else would they be, Angel?” Crowley scoffed.

“_Real_ contractions.”

Then it hit Crowley like a truck.

“Ngk. Y-you don’t mean- you don’t think- I-I can’t possibly-”

“-Be in labor? I am afraid it is a very real possibility, dear boy,” Aziraphale stood up. “How long have you been feeling these contractions?”

“Huhn, j-just since this morning! I-I’ve only had two.”

“Hmm, I guess we will just have to wait and see then. Have you felt any different otherwise?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley shrugged.

“I’ve felt on edge since yesterday,” he murmured.

Aziraphale nodded.

“Well, you may be correct about these just having been a few practice contractions, but let’s keep an eye on them in case they end up being more.”

Crowley pouted but agreed.

***

Crowley kept having mild intermittent cramps through out the day, but since they did not adopt any regular pattern, so Aziraphale deemed them indeed practice contractions. These random mild contractions continued for the next few days and just became the new normal. It got to the point where Crowley hardly noticed them. But then things changed on the seventh day.

Crowley was torn from sleep by a particularly painful contraction. It punched the breath from his lungs in a surprised gasp. He clutched at his stomach and tried to breathe through the vice like constriction to his abdomen. After who knows how long, the pain eased and Crowley was able to breathe again. He could feel a couple of tears roll down his cheek.

“A-Aziraphale!” Crowley called out weakly.

He was suddenly very scared, but honestly who wouldn’t be fucking terrified if they woke up in such pain. 

(You haven’t _really_ experienced pain, you’re just being a bitch.)

Crowley didn’t acknowledge the voice in his head. 

There was the sound of running footsteps coming up the stairs and then down the hall. Aziraphale opened the bedroom door and rushed in.

“What’s wrong? I was just downstairs organizing, and I heard you shout,” Aziraphale said breathlessly.

“C-contraction,” Crowley stuttered, looking up at his angel pleadingly.

Aziraphale blinked. “A real one?”

Crowley nodded. “T-think so. Hurt like a bitch.”

Aziraphale came over and perched on the edge of the bed. He hesitantly held out a hand above Crowley.

“I could try to see- I could check- t-that is if you want-”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said firmly. He forced himself up into a sitting position with a grunt. “It was a r-real contraction. Sure as fuck was stronger than any of those other ones.”

Aziraphale swallowed and nodded. The two just sat and stared at each other in silence as the reality of the situation settled on them. 

Crowley’s stomach constricted again. He hissed and reached for Aziraphale. The angel gave Crowley his hand instinctively and Crowley squeezed it hard.

When Crowley visibly relaxed, Aziraphale asked, “another one?”

Crowley nodded.

“How far apart were they?”

“Ngk, d-dunno.”

“Alright, well, we will just have to start counting then,” Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand gently and brushed some hair off the demon’s face.

“Aziraphale, Angel, I’m scared,” Crowley said quietly.

Aziraphale offered a small smile. “I am too, my love, but it will be alright. We can do this. _You_ can do this.”

Crowley swallowed roughly and nodded, another tear rolling down his cheek. Aziraphale reached up and wiped it away. Crowley leaned into Aziraphale’s touch.

“We are going to be fathers,” Aziraphale said in wonder.

Crowley snorted, “only just hitting you now, is it?”

“W-well, no,” Aziraphale stuttered. “It’s just, the baby is coming _now_ and it all just feels very real, a-and after all God always did insist that life didn’t start until birth and-”

“Angel,” Crowley said, cutting Aziraphale off. “I was just making a joke. I get it, really,” he reached up and cupped Aziraphale’s cheek. “We are going to be fathers.”

***

Over the course of the next three hours, Crowley’s contractions rapidly became stronger and more frequent. Now that the ball seemed to have started rolling it was racing to the finish.

Crowley could not sit still. Even when he was not having a contraction, he was in immense amounts of discomfort. Getting up and moving seemed to help some, so Crowley resorted to pacing. He kept in the bedroom because there was a good amount of furniture for him to hold onto for support when his stomach was contracting.

Aziraphale, at first, tried to comfort Crowley through his contractions but was quickly told off and instead set to gathering everything for the birth. He brought in medical supplies, and towels, and blankets, and put a rubber sheet on the bed, and arranged everything into nice piles.

Crowley was gripped in the throes of a particularly painful contraction. He had a death grip on the footboard of the bed and was making a low pained noise. There was a sudden popping sensation in his stomach and Crowley felt as if he had pissed himself. He gasped and looked down at his dripping legs in shock.

“What is it?” Aziraphale asked, immediately at Crowley’s side.

“Uhh. I-I think my w-waters just broke.”

“Oh my. We should get you out of those pants and cleaned up then.”

Crowley just nodded deftly. Aziraphale snapped his fingers to miracle something. Crowley didn’t know what the angel had created or summoned and couldn’t be bothered to look. The angel put a towel on the floor around Crowley’s feet.

“Lift your feet, dear, so I can put this under you.”

Crowley did as told, lifting one foot at a time while Aziraphale shoved the towel under his feet. Once Aziraphale was done with that he put a gentle hand on Crowley’s hip.

“I’m going to take your pants off now, alright?”

Crowley just nodded.

Aziraphale removed the soaked pants, pausing only to help Crowley lift his feet. Then there was a warm cloth running up Crowley’s legs. Aziraphale was gentle as he cleaned Crowley up. Crowley focused on that as a distraction from his constant discomfort. He briefly wondered why the angel hadn’t miracled away the mess but chalked it up to Aziraphale wanting to give Crowley some sort of physical comfort. The demon hadn’t exactly been wanting to be touched thus far.

Another contraction rolled over Crowley just as Aziraphale was finished with the cloth. This one built just as the previous ones had, but then it kept going. It was an even more unimaginable pain than before. Crowley let out a whimper as his knees buckled. Aziraphale hesitantly rubbed Crowley’s lower back.

The contraction passed, and Crowley let out a sob and sank to his knees. Aziraphale followed him to the floor.

“Was that one worse than the others?” Aziraphale asked.

“Ngk,” was all Crowley could say as he nodded.

Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s back again. “Can I, uhm, can I check your- your progress?”

Crowley just nodded again. At this point he was hoping that this whole ordeal was close to being done.

Aziraphale helped Crowley up into a better position and then slid two fingers into Crowley to check how far he was dilated. He withdrew his fingers and wiped them on the towel on the floor.

“I think you are just about there, Crowley. Do you want to move to the bed, or would you like to stay here?”

“H-here,” Crowley said. He was fucking exhausted and he didn’t think he could stand. “I want to stay here.”

“Alright, that should work out nicely. Just do what your body is telling you to do on your next contraction.”

Crowley nodded. He was extremely glad he didn’t need to breathe, or else he was sure he would have passed out by now.

The next contraction mounted and with it came a weird sensation of wanting to push. Crowley went with it and bore down. Now _that_ felt weird. He could feel the baby begin to move inside him. It was an awful sensation, but the pushing also seemed to lessen the pain of the contraction some. The contraction passed and Crowley stopped pushing. Breathing was now completely forgotten.

If he was going to have to wait for every contraction to push, this was going to take forever, Crowley thought, even with how quickly his contractions were coming now. He was not going to have that.

Crowley readjusted himself so his legs were farther apart, and his forehead was pressed against the footboard. He pushed again as hard as he could with a groan. The next contraction met him halfway and he stopped when it stopped. 

Aziraphale was weirdly quiet at Crowley’s side but was rubbing Crowley’s back in small gentle circles.

Crowley pushed again and soon felt a burning sensation. It only grew as he pushed, so he stopped with a hiss of pain. Aziraphale seemed to understand that something was happening and prodded a hand around Crowley’s opening.

The angel’s hand moved to a spot that Crowley couldn’t feel.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said quietly. “I can feel the head.”

As if on cue, another contraction hit Crowley, and he pushed again. The burning sensation increased, and Crowley screamed.

Aziraphale was telling him something, but Crowley was deaf to the world. Some part of him knew that the only way to get the pain to stop was to keep pushing. The pain crested as the contraction passed then was gone in a second with slide of movement.

“Stop pushing!” Aziraphale said suddenly. “The head is out, and I need to make sure the umbilical cord isn’t around the baby’s neck. Don't push.”

Crowley obeyed, against what every fiber of his corporation was yelling at him to do. He could feel as Aziraphale slid his finger around the baby’s neck. Crowley’s legs were shaking fiercely and likely wouldn’t hold him much longer. A weaker contraction squeezed Crowley’s belly and he found it a struggle not to push. With the contraction, he could feel the baby shift and turn, still part way inside him.

Some primal instinct made Crowley reach a hand down to try and touch his child. Aziraphale caught his hand and guided it to the head that was sticking out of Crowley.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“The cord isn’t around its neck,” Aziraphale said. “You are free to push again when you are ready. You are doing so well Crowley. It’s almost over now.”

Crowley swallowed and moved his hand back up to clutch at the footboard. Might as well get this done with.

Summoning what left he had of strength, Crowley pushed as hard as he could. Something popped free of him, and Crowley kept pushing. Then another something popped free of him. With what felt like a tug from Aziraphale, the baby slid the rest of the way out of Crowley followed by a rush of fluids. Crowley’s legs gave out and he slumped into a sitting position.

A cry pierced the air. Crowley turned his head, and then a shrieking wet baby was put in is unintentionally reaching arms. Crowley laughed and held his baby close to his chest. It was loud, and squirming, and looked a bit squished, but it was also the most beautiful thing Crowley had ever seen.

“It’s a girl,” Aziraphale said reverentially.

Right. _She_ was the most beautiful thing Crowley had every seen. 

The baby calmed down in Crowley’s arms and opened her eyes. She squinted up at Crowley.

“Hullo,” he whispered, touching the baby’s face. “You’re perfect.”

She yawned and closed her eyes again.

“Crowley let me clean her up and then we need to deal with the placenta,” Aziraphale said, reaching for the infant.

Crowley reluctantly handed the baby back to Aziraphale and watched as the angel tied and cut the umbilical cord. Once that was done with, Aziraphale snapped and miracled the baby clean, dry, and wrapped in a blanket.

Crowley’s stomach contracted weakly and he whimpered. Aziraphale was instantly beside him.

“Just the placenta, dear. A little push and it should be all done with.”

Without much warning, Aziraphale lifted Crowley up a bit and placed a bowl beneath him.

“Can you give me one last push Crowley?”

With the last of his strength, Crowley pushed weakly. The placenta slid out of him with a disgusting noise. Aziraphale miracled it away at once and Crowley clean. Crowley collapsed back against the angel, exhausted.

“Let’s get you into bed,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley nodded weakly and he was reminded of just how strong Aziraphale was as the angel picked him up effortlessly. He was set gently into the bed and the covers drawn up over him. Aziraphale moved away, and Crowley stared blankly at the ceiling. Then Aziraphale was back and he was pushing a bundle into Crowley’s arms.

Crowley took it and looked down at the sleeping face of his new daughter. He was awestruck. The last time he had seem a baby was when he had delivered the antichrist, and Crowley didn’t remember him looking this beautiful. He gently ran a finger down the side of her face. She shifted and yawned.

Aziraphale joined Crowley on the bed and brushed the baby’s cheek with his thumb.

“She’s amazing Crowley. I’m so proud of you,” Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s head and brushed some hair off his sweaty forehead.

Crowley didn’t know what to say and so just kept staring at the baby. He had fucking made this thing and it was beautiful. He had expected the baby to come out awful and deformed, but here she was, and she was perfect. It blew him away that he had managed to create something so beautiful. Her face was slightly squished looking, and she was splotchy pink with a shock of pale hair peeking out from under the cap Aziraphale had miracled onto her head. 

“What do you want to call her?” Aziraphale asked.

“Elinor,” Crowley said at once. He didn’t quite know where the name had come from, but it seemed right.

“Hello Elinor,” Aziraphale said, stroking Elinor’s cheek. “Welcome to the world.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! The final chapter of this beast. This is the single longest piece of writing I have ever created. I want to thank everyone who has been reading so far!! I have so very much enjoyed writing this, and your support has been a great motivator to finish this. I am so very bad at actually finishing fics and it feels soooo good to actually finish one!! Once again, thank you all so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter!! As always, comments and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> PS: I am planning a sequel to this that will focus on those little teasers I've thrown in about Crowley and Aziraphale's pasts. But it will be a bit before I start that, what with finishing out this term at school and all.
> 
> PPS: For those of you wondering, Crowley has had typically male presenting genitalia for the majority of this fic. That being said, in the last chapter it was my idea that, shortly after his first "practice contractions", Crowley changed his corporation to have typically presenting female genitalia for the birth.

The first night was a little hectic for Aziraphale. Soon after giving birth, Crowley fell into a fitful sleep which he stayed in for most of the night. Aziraphale let Crowley sleep and tended to Elinor when she herself was not asleep. Several times during the night Crowley woke up from nightmares that he couldn’t remember but left him sobbing into Aziraphale’s shirt. Said angel comforted Crowley through these nightmares and helped him back to sleep. 

Aziraphale, when he wasn’t soothing Crowley or Elinor, sat and listened very hard for a knock on the door to the book shop. He was waiting for Heaven and Hell to show up with all their glorious wrath. They never showed and Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief when the sun rose. For now, his family was safe.

The week progressed and day by day the fear of retribution from either Heaven or Hell diminished. 

Crowley was up on his feet and back to his usual self in two days. He spent every moment possible holding Elinor and cooing at her. Aziraphale found himself wondering if Crowley had been this doting with Warlock when he had been a baby.

Elinor for her part behaved as one would expect a newborn human to behave. Even if she very much wasn’t human, that much was clear just from touching her. One could instantly feel the power that this tiny being contained, but she didn’t seem to have access to it yet. Elinor slept a lot, and cried, and ate, and evacuated like a human baby.

Everything was perfect in Aziraphale’s opinion.

***

Aziraphale was down in the bookshop for once. It had been nearly two weeks since Elinor had been born and to be honest, the angel had started to go a little stir crazy. So, he had opened the bookshop for the day. 

It had been a quiet day, thankfully. Only one person stopped in and it was only to avoid a sudden cloud burst. They glanced at a few books, but didn’t seem interested in them really. Aziraphale was thankful for that. 

He had just flipped over the closed sign and locked the door. Aziraphale was back at his desk going over his ledger, which he did every day whether or not he sold anything. He liked to have a routine. 

The bell over the door jingled. Aziraphale didn’t bother looking up.

“I’m afraid we are closed,” he said in a well-rehearsed manner.

(Wait, hadn’t he locked the door?)

Aziraphale looked up sharply and felt the blood drain from his face. A sinister looking Gabriel and Beelzebub were standing in the bookshop. Gabriel had a cold smile on his face and Beelzebub was glaring.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said as if the name was a dirty word. “I hope you are smart enough to know why we are here.”

Aziraphale glanced at the door behind the two to try and see if there was any of Heaven and Hell's goons outside, but the door was closed.

Aziraphale squared his shoulders and spoke with dangerous intent, “I thought you folks had well agreed to leave Crowley and I alone.”

Gabriel scoffed, “yeah, well, that was before you two decided to go and create an abomination. Funny of you to think you could hid it.”

“Yezzz, very zzztupid of you to do zzzuch a thing,” Beelzebub buzzed.

Aziraphale gritted his teeth and came around the counter, picking up the fire poker he kept by the counter for emergencies.

“I won’t stand for this. I’m only going to ask you to kindly leave once.”

“Or what? You’re going to face off with both Heaven and Hell? You, a single disgraced angel?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said firmly. “Now, leave.”

“No,” Beelzebub said, stepping forward.

“Yes, you and that demon have gone too far Aziraphale. We aren’t leaving,” Gabriel said, joining Beelzebub.

There was a sudden sound of someone stumbling down a flight of stairs followed by a loud thud as said someone presumably fell and a muffled “FUCK”. The three being in the bookshop all turned to look in the direction of the sounds. A moment later, Crowley stormed into the bookshop looking slightly ruffled and beyond angry.

He stopped next to Aziraphale and glared down Gabriel and Beelzebub.

“Who the fuck gave you two the right to come here?” Crowley spat.

Gabriel’s cold expression hardened to one of disgust and hatred.

“We don’t need permizzzion to come here, Crowley,” Beelzebub hissed. “You have committed a crime and we are here to punizzzsh you.”

“I don’t fucking think so,” Crowley stepped in front of Aziraphale. “You are not going to threaten my family.”

Gabriel laughed coldly. “As if a single demon and angel could fight us off.”

Crowley exchanged a glance with Aziraphale. The angel raised his fire poker, and, with a twist of his wrist, it caught flame. Crowley turned back to Gabriel and Beelzebub. He raised his hands to the side, palms upward.

His hands were at once engulfed in fire. One was the acrid yellow of Hell fire, and the other was the bright with of Heavenly flame.

Gabriel gasped in shock and Beelzebub took a step back.

“How can you do that?” Gabriel asked, staring at the white fire. “No demon should be able to summon Heavenly flame. It should be burning you alive.”

Crowley looked at his hand with mild amusement.

“Guess that just proves where I stand.”

Aziraphale was just as shocked as the other two, but there was also a weird sense of familiarity to the situation. He felt as if he had seen Crowley summon the flames of Heaven like this before, but that was ridiculous.

“So, what’s it gonna be then,” Crowley taunted. “Are you bastards going to leave us alone, or do you want to play with fire?”

Gabriel and Beelzebub shared a brief glance but held their ground. Both assumed more battle-ready positions. Gabriel drew a sword, and the swarm of flies around Beelzebub increased in thickness.

“I see,” Aziraphale said. “It looks like we have to defend out ground, Crowley. Or die trying.”

“Oh, I am so ready for this, Angel.”

Just as the two groups were about to advance on one another, there was a loud crisp knock on the bookshop door.

“Go away!” Gabriel shouted angrily.

The knock sounded again, louder this time. Beelzebub looked like they were about to snap.

“I am not going to break into this shop, unlike some people!” called a voice that was chillingly familiar to the four in the bookshop.

The current situation forgotten, Aziraphale rushed forward and opened the door. Standing on the other side was an older unassuming woman who held an air of powerful fierceness around her. To the casual observer she would be nothing more than a slightly scary elderly woman, but to those four entities gathered in _A.Z. Fell and Co. Antiquarian and Unusual Books_ she was unmistakable.

She smiled at Aziraphale and stepped into the bookshop.

“Thank you Aziraphale, good to see someone hasn’t forgotten their manners,” She gave a pointed look to Gabriel. “Now, please do put down your weapons, there is no need for violence.”

“W-with all due respect, my Lord,” Gabriel started.

God, for that was who the woman was, leveled Gabriel with a look. At once Gabriel put away his sword. Aziraphale left the fire poker by the door and returned to Crowley’s side. Crowley had extinguished his fires, and Beelzebub’s swarm had diminished. God looked between the four of them with approving looks.

“Much better. Now,” she said, turning to Gabriel and Beelzebub. “What exactly is the meaning of this?”

“I-I, uhm w-what exactly do you mean, my- my Lord?” Gabriel stuttered. Beelzebub looked like they were staring down their worst nightmare.

“What I mean, Gabriel, is why exactly are you two assaulting these men in their home?”

Gabriel floundered for a second, which under any other circumstances would have made both Aziraphale and Crowley laugh. For now, though, they stood very close to each other, unsure of their fate.

Gabriel regained his voice and spoke like a whiny child, “but Lord, they’ve created an abomination!”

God held up a finger.

“Ah, an abomination according to who exactly? If I remember correctly, I specifically forbade the creation of Nephilim. The child of these two is a Nephalem. There is a difference, I shall have you know.”

Gabriel was turning red in the face and looked like he was about to explode.

God tutted and continued, “I will not argue with you Gabriel. I am very disappointed in how you have been bureaucracy of Heaven, and now you have the audacity to try and harm those who are not within your jurisdiction! I was fairly certain these two made it very clear to both Heaven and Hell that they do not stand with you. In fact, I will have you know that I _explicitly_ condoned the birth of this child. I am sick and tired of you all claiming to act on behalf of my Great Plan when I have never _told_ anyone the details of my Plans!”

“Nonzzzenzzze,” Beelzebub squeaked.

God looked at them disapprovingly.

“Oh, am I not allowed to do what I please now?” She asked mockingly.

“N-no. T-that'zzz not- j-juzzzt, w-why would you condone zzzuch a thing?” Beelzebub stuttered.

“Because,” God said firmly. “It is about time, in my opinion, that Humanity actually had someone to protect them, since it has become increasingly clear to me in recent times that Heaven no longer seems to take their divine role as Humanity’s protectors very seriously anymore,” She looked at Gabriel who had turned a startling shade of red. “The child, and these two are expressly off limits to the likes of Heaven and Hell. You are not to interact with them unless on strictly friendly terms and you are most definitely forbidden from laying harm to any of them and their future decedents. Do you understand me, Archangel and Duke of Hell?”

Gabriel and Beelzebub both cowered at the fierceness of God’s voice. They both nodded and muttered something.

“Use your words,” God stated firmly.

“Y-yes, my Lord, I understand,” Gabriel responded.

“M-me too, I underzzztand.”

“Good, now leave before I get angrier.”

Gabriel and Beelzebub both turned quickly and stumbled out the door. It was quite the show to be honest, and the two ended up getting wedged in the doorway together for a moment in their haste. God chuckled lightly and then turned to Crowley and Aziraphale.

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a distant cry from upstairs, “Ah, someone should go deal with that. Crowley, my dear, would you please go retrieve the child and bring her down here?”

Crowley nodded deftly then turned and ran back up the stairs. He fell somewhere in the process of getting up the stairs with a loud thud and another curse. Aziraphale stood stock still and stared frightfully at God. God smiled softly back at him.

Crowley returned quickly with a quietly cooing Elinor. God smiled and held her hands out.

“May I?”

Crowley gave Aziraphale a fearful look but handed the infant over gently none the less.

God took Elinor and held her gently. She wiggled a finger in front of the baby’s face. Elinor giggled and reached up to grab the finger.

“She is beautiful,” God said, “I congratulate the both of you.”

Crowley and Aziraphale both muttered a quiet “thank you” and shuffled closer to each other.

God gently moved her finger back and forth, wiggling Elinor’s arm.

“I bless thee, child. May you grow strong and beautiful and may you serve as a fierce protector of Humanity,” God said. She leaned down and kissed Elinor’s forehead.

She then caught Crowley’s eye and made a small gesture to indicate she wanted to hand Elinor back. Crowley moved forward and took he out of God’s arms. He stared down at Elinor with immense relief.

“I am truly sorry for Heaven and Hell’s behavior toward you,” God said, “they should hopefully leave you alone now, what with the threat of Divine wrath held over them. Now, I should be going. My presence on Earth always seems to draw unwanted attention no matter how hard I try to conceal myself. I will let myself out, have a good night and may you both have happy and safe lives.”

With that, God turned and headed for the door to the bookshop. Aziraphale managed to regain use of his tongue.

“Thank you, Lord! For everything that is.”

God waved a hand as she opened the bookshop door and went through it.

“It’s really no problem, my child!” 

God shut the bookshop door behind herself and with that she was gone.

Crowley and Aziraphale stared at the bookshop door in silence. After a moment, Aziraphale started laughing. Crowley soon joined him, and the two laughed hysterically for some minutes. It wasn’t necessarily that the situation had been all that humorous (it had been to an extent). Laughing was just a natural response to high levels of emotion.

Once they had regained themselves once more, Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s face and kissed the demon roughly. Crowley responded enthusiastically, and the two only stopped when Elinor squeaked in protest at them getting too close together.

“So, I guess that answers the question of whether or not I was just making up all that dream nonsense, huh?” Crowley said breathlessly.

Aziraphale chuckled. “I guess it does.”

“Now what?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale thought for a moment, then shrugged. “We go forth and live our lives how we please without the threat of Heaven nor Hell over our shoulders, and we raise our daughter to protect Humanity.”

Crowley smiled and looked down at Elinor. She cooed back up at him.

“I like the sound of that.”


End file.
